Gemotions

The silence of the house amplified the sound of her own ragged breathing. Clara had spent the last hour lost in the book, a biography about her life crafted without her consent. It was all there – the successes, the failures, the intimate details. She felt the blood drain from her face.

The author had focused on the scandals, the moments of weakness. Clara knew the truth, the hidden struggles, the sheer determination it took to keep going. She felt an unexpected warmth, a protective instinct towards the woman in the narrative. She wanted to gather her in her arms, to whisper words of comfort, to tell her that it would all be alright. She sighed, a heavy, defeated sound.