Gemotions

Clara felt a constant tightness in her chest, as if a vise were slowly closing. The phone call had been brief, the receptionist's voice apologetic but detached. Records mixed. Now, the potential implications swirled in her mind like a toxic fog. This was a nightmare. She started grinding her teeth.

Her apartment felt suffocating, the walls closing in. She paced, restless, each step an amplified echo in the otherwise quiet space. She kept reaching for her phone, then pulling back. The urge to call someone, anyone, to simply hear a normal voice was overwhelming.

Her reflection in the darkened window showed a stranger. Pale, with eyes that darted about, always on the lookout. She rubbed her arms, a shiver chasing its way across her skin despite the warmth. This couldn't be happening.