Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent light of the kitchen hummed, a relentless, irritating sound that seemed to amplify the anxiety twisting in Clara's stomach. "Go stargazing in Iceland." It was just a list, she told herself, just a collection of wishes. But it felt like a judgment, like a reflection of everything she hadn't been.

She reread the scrawled handwriting, each word a tiny dagger. She slammed the list back onto the countertop, the action surprisingly violent. The cheap laminate rattled under her fist. A headache throbbed behind her eyes.

Her gaze drifted to the window, the dark night outside mirroring the shadows gathering in her thoughts. Her hands trembled as she reached for a glass of water, the cold liquid doing little to quell the internal fire. She felt adrift, lost in a sea of unspoken doubts.