Gemotions

The weight of the book, "Clara's Constant," was a physical burden in her lap. She sat motionless on the park bench, the autumn leaves swirling around her feet. The book chronicled her meticulous routine, the endless cycles of her life, the same coffee shop, the same bus route, the same anxieties. A tremor ran through her, a shudder that started in her toes and spread upward. It felt as if everything was pulling her down, anchoring her to this life. The birds singing in the trees felt distant, as if they were a million miles away, beyond her reach.