Gemotions

“Unbelievable,” Clara hissed under her breath, staring at the glossy magazine. Her investigative piece on corporate corruption was front-page news, but the byline read, "Written by John Smith." She felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to shatter something. Preferably the magazine itself.

She crumpled the magazine in her hands, her knuckles turning white. She had risked everything for this story, facing threats, late nights, a constant state of paranoia. And now, this… this injustice.

She paced her living room. Her apartment, once a space of order and control, now felt like a cage. The furniture felt alien, and the walls closed in. She needed to breathe, but her chest felt constricted. The air felt thin.