Gemotions

Eliza folded her arms, her lips pressed into a thin line. The account was like staring into a funhouse mirror, reflecting a warped version of her daughter, Maya. Maya, the quiet, bookish girl, now a loud, crude teenager. The difference was jarring, and the contrast made her skin prickle.

Eliza felt a familiar weariness settle upon her. All that energy, directed towards… *this*. She felt a profound sense of disappointment, a deep and unshakeable feeling of irritation. She wanted a stiff drink. The whole thing was just exhausting. She wanted to scream.