Gemotions

Her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Maya scanned the restaurant, each face a potential witness to her shame. Someone, somehow, had found her sketchbooks. Her drawings, intimate studies of the human form, were now decorating the restaurant's walls. The owner had probably thought it was a brilliant idea. But to Maya, it felt like an invasion.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip them all down. Her cheeks burned with a sudden, searing heat. She couldn't meet anyone's eyes. She hunched over her half-eaten salad, picking at the leaves with trembling fingers. Each bite felt like a struggle.

She heard a couple nearby, commenting on one of her sketches. They seemed to like it, but Maya couldn't bear to listen. She slammed her fork down, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing mind, but found it impossible.