Clara hadn’t meant to make the room beautiful.

Maybe this is where I finally meet myself.

Becoming Clara: Chapter 8

Clara hadn’t meant to make the room beautiful.
She’d meant to make it hers.

But there she was on a soft Sunday afternoon, barefoot on the orange rug, watching the light shift across her living room like it was flirting with her. The sage-green chair by the window seemed to glow a little, as if pleased with itself for existing. An…