Gemotions

The flickering neon sign outside the diner cast long, dancing shadows across the table, mirroring the disquiet churning inside Clara. She stared at the steaming coffee in her mug, the liquid’s surface shimmering. Her hands shook, causing the coffee to slosh over the rim, staining the already stained tabletop. The words in the book—her words, her life—felt like unwelcome intruders, echoing in her mind. Her jaw was set, tight, as though holding back a scream. A small sigh escaped her, a fragile breath against the immensity of the situation.