Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to mock her. The exhibit she spent her time preparing. Now someone else was taking credit. Her hands felt clumsy, useless.

She felt a pressure building behind her eyes. Her fingers, usually steady, now fumbled with her purse's strap. She had to get away from the clamor, the well-meaning compliments from her guests.

She mumbled an excuse and stumbled toward the exit. The air outside was cool against her heated skin, but it didn't ease the discomfort that seized her.