Gemotions

"Ugh," Clara groaned, burying her face in the pillow. The sharp, metallic clang of a hammer woke her again. It felt as though it were inside her head. The renovation next door, a constant reminder of the life she used to have, and the life she felt she'd lost.

She dragged herself out of bed, her limbs heavy. The sunlight, when it finally penetrated the blinds, felt aggressive, unwelcome. She made herself some tea, but the familiar comfort it usually offered eluded her. She found herself staring blankly at the teacup, the steam curling upward like a sad, spectral dance.