Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the art studio seemed to close in around Chloe. She pushed the clay with her fingers, but the material offered no resistance, no challenge. The silence of the space, usually a source of comfort, now felt oppressive, each tick of the clock amplifying the emptiness. She threw down her tools, the clang echoing through the room. She began pacing.

A friend messaged her. A link. Gossip, supposedly. Chloe rolled her eyes. Still, the pull was there.

The website loaded. Her eyes widened. The familiar, childish handwriting stared back at her. Her private thoughts, now displayed for the world. Her cheeks flushed with heat.