Gemotions

"What do I even *want* to do?" Clara asked, her voice a near whisper as she stared blankly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The reflection stared back, a mirror image of her own confusion and indecision. The two parties represented two divergent paths, two possible versions of herself, and she had no sense of which, if any, she preferred.

She felt a hollowness in her chest, a vast emptiness that nothing could seem to fill. Every task, every obligation, seemed to require a heroic effort. Her usual zest for life had vanished, replaced by a pervasive sense of apathy.

She splashed cold water on her face, hoping to shock herself back to alertness. The water ran down her cheeks, a futile attempt to wash away the feeling of immobility. She felt as though she were suspended in time, unable to move forward, unable to choose.