Gemotions

Her breath hitched. She stared, transfixed, at the display. It was her experimental photography, pieces documenting her rawest experiences, hung without her consent, twisted and molded. The entire exhibition was a mockery of what she had spent years building.

The faces of the people, the smiles, the chatter—all of it felt alien. She couldn’t stand to be there. She felt a growing, nauseating pressure in her chest.

She backed away slowly, her eyes still fixed on the photographs. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe. She bumped into someone, mumbled an apology, and kept moving, desperate to escape.