Gemotions

The salt air tasted bitter against Clara’s tongue. She hugged herself against the wind, the waves crashing a rhythmic, uncaring percussion against the rocks below. The sun, usually a welcome warmth, offered no comfort. Liam, her adventurous, globe-trotting friend, was actually a clerk at a library. A goddamn library.

She'd listened, enraptured, to his tales of climbing mountains and diving with sharks. She’d vicariously experienced the thrill of his supposed escapades. Now, the ocean's vastness seemed to reflect the emptiness that had opened within her.

Clara traced patterns in the sand with her toe. The grains felt cold and brittle. She felt a profound sense of disillusionment, a quiet grief for the loss of something that had never truly existed.