Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery felt muted, the air thick with tension. The painting in the center of the exhibit was hers, the landscape she had poured her heart and soul into. Now, it hung under another artist's name, the artwork itself subtly altered, the small changes hitting her like a blow.

She tried to examine the piece objectively, to find some redeeming qualities, but all she saw was betrayal. She moved from the gallery, suddenly desperate for fresh air, the walls closing in. She felt a burning sensation in her throat. The crowd around the artwork felt suffocating.