Gemotions

The music in the jazz club was a blur, the notes swirling around Clara’s head like a discordant symphony of disappointment. She took another sip of her wine, its bitterness doing little to cut through the even greater bitterness she felt inside. The promises, the laughter, the intimacy – all felt like a carefully constructed illusion.

A man approached her, his smile tight, his eyes clouded with a similar pain. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice hesitant. "Is your name Clara?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice flat. He introduced himself as David, and then, he pulled out his phone. The screen displayed a series of photos of her, with her alleged boyfriend.