Gemotions

A chill wind whistled through the gaps in the window frames of Clara’s apartment. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the cold that seemed to seep into her bones. The rejection letter from her dream job lay crumpled on the coffee table, a physical manifestation of her shattered hopes. Every task she completed felt like wading through molasses.

Lily, her niece, skipped into the room, a crayon-stained grin on her face. "Auntie Clara, look!" She held up a drawing, showcasing a peculiar character with oversized shoes and a perpetually surprised expression.

Clara's breath hitched. That was Barnaby. She had forgotten all about him. Barnaby, who she had blamed everything on, who was always there to pick her up when she fell.

Clara ran a hand across her forehead, a tremor shaking her. The drawing seemed to drain her, and she suddenly felt a heaviness in the room.