Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to mock him. Elias, usually energized by creative spaces, felt his enthusiasm drain away. He'd seen his name erased from a piece of work, a cruel inversion of his life’s dedication, and now found himself adrift.

He wandered through the gallery, his gaze unfocused. He stopped in front of a painting, but the art offered no comfort, no solace. His shoulders slumped, his eyes narrowed, and he felt a growing sense of isolation, a deep ache.

He slowly turned away from the art, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. The other visitors’ chatter grated on his nerves, and his sense of perspective felt utterly ruined. He felt as though the world had become a stage, and he was watching a play he didn't want to see.

He turned and abruptly left the gallery, the sharp cold air of the outside world a welcome change.