Gemotions

The weight of the day, of everything, pressed down on Clara. The constant pressure to perform, to succeed, to simply *be* felt like a physical burden. She’d gone to the library, seeking solace, but even the quiet of the reading room couldn’t penetrate her thick cloak of unease.

She randomly pulled a volume from the shelf, a biography of a forgotten artist. As she opened the book, something slipped out. A photograph. A grainy, black-and-white image of a young woman, laughing, her eyes crinkling at the corners. On the back, in faint pencil, was a single word: "Joy."

Clara felt a peculiar catch in her throat. She closed the book, the photograph still in her hand, and simply sat there.