Gemotions

Clara stared at the letter, the paper brittle in her grip. Her mother had never spoken of dissatisfaction, only the joys of her chosen path. Now, the typed words from her younger self were right in front of her. The world felt tilted, unbalanced.

She wandered into the kitchen, reaching for a glass of water, her hand trembling. The light seemed too bright, the silence too loud. She felt a disquiet she couldn't name, a hollowness in her chest. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She couldn’t seem to concentrate; she felt lost.