Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to bleed together before Leo's eyes. He gripped his glass of wine so tightly his knuckles were white. The rejection, the crushing disappointment, had cast a pall over his usually buoyant spirit. He stared at a painting, a bold, abstract piece, and found no solace, no inspiration. The conversations around him, the excited chatter of art enthusiasts, felt distant, muffled, as if he were separated from the world by a pane of thick glass. He took a large gulp of wine, the liquid burning a cold trail down his throat.