Gemotions

The silence in the cramped office was absolute, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall. The rhythmic pulse of time mirrored the frantic beat of Clara's heart. Coach Miller sat across from her, his expression carefully neutral. She clutched her violin case tighter, as if it could somehow protect her.

He began to speak, but the words were a dull drone, lost in a sudden rush of blood to her ears. The room swam, the colors bled together, and the familiar details of the space became distorted. It felt like she was trapped in a dream. She struggled to keep herself together.