Gemotions

The scent of bleach, usually a comfort, filled Clara’s nostrils. She stared at the pristine kitchen counter, every surface sparkling. She had already cleaned the whole house twice, but the urge to eliminate any trace of dirt was still there.

She picked up the spray bottle again, her hand steady.

Her father, reading a newspaper in the living room, called out, "Everything alright, honey?"

Clara felt a sudden need to be doing more. "Yeah, Dad. Just… making sure everything's spotless." She sprayed the sink, the stove, the refrigerator, every surface. Everything needed to be perfect.