Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to mock him. He should have been enjoying the opening, the chatter, the wine. Instead, he felt a crushing sense of isolation. The records showed a different path, a different future. A future he did not want.

He wandered through the exhibits, the artwork blurring before his eyes. Each piece felt too bright, too alive. He found himself avoiding eye contact, shrinking back from the energy of the crowd.

He slipped out unnoticed, the cool night air offering little relief. He walked aimlessly through the city streets, the city lights reflecting in the wet pavement, a mirror of his own confused and fragmented self.