Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the staccato drumming in Clara's chest. She traced circles on the condensation, a repetitive action that didn't soothe the restlessness that had taken root in her. It was supposed to be a sunny Saturday, filled with laughter and the aroma of barbeque. Now, the forecast, like her mood, was grey. She sighed, a puff of air that seemed to evaporate any semblance of excitement she might have had. The text message sat on her phone, a small, crushing weight: "Party cancelled. Something urgent came up."

The apartment, usually a haven, felt suffocating. Each meticulously placed object, once a source of comfort, now seemed to mock her with its stillness. She wandered from room to room, picking up and putting down books, keys, anything to disrupt the stillness. The anticipation, the planning, all of it, now just…gone. A vague sense of disappointment washed over her, making her crave something, anything, to distract herself.