Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with a low murmur, but to Clara, it sounded like a roaring inferno. Her face was flushed, her hands were balled into fists. She had intended to text her best friend, detailing the excruciatingly boring date she’d just endured. Instead, a curt dismissal of her therapist's advice had just been dispatched to…her therapist.

Her therapist, who, frankly, was the only person who seemed to understand her.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She could feel the blood rushing to her head. A new notification lit up the screen. Clara’s stomach twisted.

"Clara, I am concerned about your tone. And, more importantly, are you okay?"