Gemotions

The quiet of the library was grating. Clara reread the letter, tracing the familiar ink strokes: “My time here is complete.” Her mentor, Mrs. Petrov, had vanished. The books, usually a source of comfort, felt like silent observers of her dismay. Her legs shifted as if they might take her somewhere – anywhere.

She had to get away. The world outside beckoned, a vibrant contrast to the sterile quiet. She dashed through the library, the world now calling. She craved to feel the wind on her face, the warmth of the sun. She headed for the forest, eager for the solace of nature.