Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery where she worked suddenly seemed too bright, too loud. The email, tucked in her purse, weighed heavy. She excused herself from her post, needing air.

She went into the storage room, the scent of dust and old canvases filling her nostrils. The darkness offered a momentary reprieve from the throbbing in her head. Her vision tunneled. She felt her hands start to shake.

She clutched a paint-splattered canvas, seeking a grounding point. The failure felt like a physical blow. A sob escaped her, tight and ragged.