Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Clara's mouth. She hadn't slept properly in days, the weight of her divorce a constant pressure in her chest. Empty boxes lined the hallway, mocking her attempts at a fresh start. Every time she looked at them she thought of the past.

Her sister's daughter, Maya, presented her with a drawing. “Aunt Clara, this is Sparkle! He’s playing hide-and-seek.” The drawing showed a shimmering, winged creature with mismatched eyes hidden behind a tree.

Clara felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Sparkle. That was her childhood imaginary friend. The familiar image, vibrant and cheerful, felt like a deliberate taunt. She hated everything.

“Very good, Maya,” she said, her voice a thin, reedy sound. She turned away quickly, feigning an interest in the packing.