Gemotions

Clara slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. The story – a tale of lifelong friendship – felt like a cruel joke. She needed to focus on the presentation, but her mind kept drifting back to the argument with Maya.

"You said you were there!" Clara had yelled. Maya's face had remained impassive, as though the chasm in their recollections of the concert didn't exist.

The memory itself felt like a dull ache. Clara vividly recalled the vibrant stage lights, the deafening music, and the way Maya had squeezed her hand, ecstatic. Maya, however, recalled a different concert, a smaller venue, a different setlist. It felt as though someone had replaced a piece of her history with a fake.