Gemotions

The tiny apartment in the city always felt crowded with everything that was not her. Clara had ordered the DNA test hoping for a connection, for some sense of belonging. The box had sat on her counter for weeks.

The results, when they arrived, were a confusing jumble of names and percentages. The biological information felt… clinical. And the words, “No immediate family matches detected,” hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

She spent the day curled up on her couch, staring out the window at the bustling street below. The noise, normally a source of comfort, now grated on her nerves. The endless stream of faces, all moving towards something, only emphasized her isolation.