Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery, usually a source of joy, felt garish and overwhelming. Amelia’s hands clenched into fists in her pockets. The legal documents confirming her father’s infidelity, and the existence of a sister she’d never known, were still burning a hole in her bag.

She stared blankly at a Jackson Pollock. The chaotic splashes of paint mirrored her own inner turmoil. Every conversation, every shared memory with her father now felt tainted. She wanted to rip the painting from the wall, destroy something, anything to alleviate the pressure.