Gemotions

The box of old photographs lay open on the kitchen table, their faded colors a testament to the life she hadn’t lived. Clara sifted through them, the faces of her adoptive family staring back at her. Smiling, happy, *connected.* She picked up a picture of herself as a child, her eyes alight with a joy she no longer recognized. She felt a profound weariness settle over her, a bone-deep fatigue that seeped into her very marrow. A small cough escaped her lips, and she stared at the floor. The past was fixed; there wasn't a choice to be made.