Gemotions

The tightness in Clara's chest had been building since she woke. She’d made coffee, but the bitterness was lost on her. She found herself staring out the window, watching the leaves swirl in a dizzying dance. Everything felt wrong, slightly off-kilter. When the earth shook with the rumble of the tree falling, she jumped back, her heart leaping.

Her apartment suddenly felt impossibly small. The walls seemed to be closing in. She could practically feel the scrutiny of the other neighbors. They would be talking. Whispering. Judging.

She twisted her hands, unable to sit still. She needed to know, needed to see. Ignoring the churning in her stomach, she pulled her coat on and walked outside. The tree was a monstrous thing, its branches a tangled mess. She stared at the wreckage, her legs feeling like jelly.

The sight of the damage sent a sharp wave of nausea through her. She fought the urge to run back inside, away from the scene and all the people. She took a deep breath, fighting the feeling of being trapped. She forced herself to stand, rooted to the spot, feeling utterly exposed.