Gemotions

The phone call had come late, the caller ID displaying a number she didn't recognize. The voice on the other end, warm and friendly, had informed her of the discovery. Now, she sat in her sun-drenched kitchen, the remnants of her breakfast untouched on the table. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, but she couldn't appreciate it.

She’d been attempting to read, but the words swam before her eyes. Each sentence seemed to taunt her with its blandness. She put the book down, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. She felt a prickling sensation in her palms, a restless energy that demanded an outlet.

She got up and started washing dishes, scrubbing them with unnecessary force. The clatter of the plates seemed to fill the room, a cacophony that mirrored the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind. What would this mean for her?