Gemotions

The coffee sat untouched on the table, the steam long dissipated. Clara dragged herself out of bed and, without enthusiasm, reached for her phone. She felt the weight of the morning pressing down on her. She wanted to text her mother, just a simple "Good morning," but her attention drifted. A familiar number she barely remembered, the number of her overbearing boss, caught her eye. She meant to text her friend, but with a sluggish finger she typed, “This is awful.” The message immediately sent. A shiver ran through her, a mix of embarrassment and dread. She sank back into her chair, defeated.