Gemotions

Standing in the DMV felt like being trapped in a Kafka novel. Clara fumed, her face flushed with fury. The clerk, a young man with acne and a bored expression, was utterly unconcerned about the implications of the error. Her medical records, mixed up with some random stranger's, had created complications with her driver's license application.

She had spent hours on the phone, dealing with bureaucratic nonsense, the whole experience a blatant waste of her time. Each word from the clerk was like a further irritation. The carelessness of it all, the utter disregard for her personal information, was staggering.

She crossed her arms, a clear signal of her displeasure. Her voice was icy. "I expect this to be resolved," she said, each word precisely enunciated. The clerk's lack of concern only fueled her anger.