Gemotions

The phone rang, jolting Clara from her peaceful state. It was her agent. A biography. Unauthorised. Clara was told to meet with her.

The agent's office was filled with a nervous energy, the room buzzing with activity. Clara sat in a comfortable chair, her back straight, her hands resting calmly in her lap. The agent’s words, a jumble of legal jargon and frustrated explanations, barely registered. The pages of the book, laid out on the desk before her, held no fear for her. She was a silent observer of her own story, a spectator in her own life. She felt the weight of all the words, but felt nothing.