Gemotions

She crumpled the glossy magazine, the critic's words a viper's hiss in her ears. A heat blossomed in her chest, spreading down her arms and into her fingertips. It made her clench them. "Disappointing," he had written. "Lacking passion."

She threw on her coat, feeling the silk slide against her heated skin. She needed air, needed to move. The city, normally a familiar embrace, felt charged, electric. She headed straight for the bustling market, pushing through the crowds with a new urgency.

The vibrant colors of the produce, the rough textures of the cheeses, the rich smells of spices, assaulted her senses. She squeezed a ripe tomato, its juicy flesh bursting under her fingers. A strange tension coiled in her stomach, a need she couldn't name. She felt a craving for sensation.