Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Clara's mouth. She sat at her usual cafe, usually a sanctuary, but today it offered no solace. Her phone, clutched tightly in her hand, vibrated incessantly with notifications. Each one was a fresh stab of embarrassment. The diary, her secret world of adolescent dreams and insecurities, was online, exposed to the judgmental eyes of the internet.

She pushed her untouched croissant away. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed too bright, too intrusive. Everything felt oppressive, heavy.

She imagined the laughter, the whispers. The thought made her stomach churn. Clara wanted to hide, to vanish.