Gemotions

It was late, the world outside was quiet, but Clara couldn't sleep. The screen cast long shadows on her face as she read yet another account of Blackwood's artistic sins. Her fingers tapped restlessly on the desk. She could feel the familiar weight on her shoulders, like a lead cape. The world felt dim, the colors washed out.

She thought of the joy his stories had brought her, the inspiration he had given her. She felt like all of that had been stolen. She couldn’t shake the dull ache in her back and she wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. But the images in her mind would not allow her.