Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed muted. Sarah listened as Ben waxed lyrical about his ‘curatorial role’ and the ‘visionary artists’ he was supporting. She'd accidentally overheard a conversation between Ben and his mother in which she expressed confusion about her son's occupation. Ben worked a night shift at a local supermarket. She didn't say anything, but her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She felt a strange buzzing behind her ears. She forced a smile and asked, “So, when's the next exhibition?”