Gemotions

He saw the faces of the people, their expressions of amazement. Thomas stood, hidden in the corner, unable to get closer to the exhibit. He recognized his sketches. His private, vulnerable charcoal drawings were plastered across the gallery walls. He wanted to run, to vanish, to erase his very existence.

A woman approached one of the drawings, pointing, making comments. He didn't know what they were saying, but he knew they were talking about his life, his pain, his private thoughts. He could feel it. A tremor of revulsion ran through his body.

He took another step back, trying to will himself to disappear. The chattering of the crowd became a deafening roar. His stomach was twisting. He thought he might be sick.