Gemotions

"This is insane, Clara," Michael sputtered, pacing the small living room. "A whole flock of parakeets? What are we going to do with them?" The birds chirped incessantly, a cacophony of sound that usually annoyed Clara.

Today, however, she sat on the floor, watching them with an almost breathless fascination. Their vibrant colors, the way they flitted through the air, their tiny claws gripping the cage bars—it was all so… stunning.

She hadn't realized how badly she wanted something like this. She’d always liked birds, but this was different. She had not expected this rush of joy. She wanted to hug them and cry. "They're beautiful, Michael," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the chirping.