Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of the art gallery, mirroring the storm brewing inside Clara. She'd driven hours, fueled by a vague hope, a desperate need to reconnect with Sarah, her childhood confidante. When Sarah walked up to her, she looked at the woman with a hopeful gaze. Sarah blinked. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Clara felt something inside her deflate like a punctured balloon.

She'd crafted a carefully curated outfit, a deliberate echo of a favorite dress Sarah had once admired. Her stomach churned. The exhibition, a showcase of local artists, was filled with people, but Clara only saw Sarah. “We… we used to build forts in the woods behind your house,” Clara stammered, her voice barely audible above the drumming rain. "We were inseparable."

Sarah's polite smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion. “Oh, right. Well, it's nice to meet you, anyway.” Sarah began to move away to speak with a group of people, and Clara’s hand rose, as if to grab a lifeline, and dropped. Her legs felt heavy, rooted to the spot.