Gemotions

The air in Sarah's apartment was thick with dust and stale air. The apartment felt like a prison cell. Everything was wrong. She looked at her phone, the bright screen a stark contrast to the gloom of her surroundings. Her online friend, “Artistic_Angel,” was her only connection to the world. They shared art, dreams, and a mutual understanding of Sarah's withdrawal from everything.

Artistic_Angel had asked to meet. A gallery opening, just down the street. It was a place she used to frequent. She considered the invitation. She wanted to connect with people. But she knew that it was difficult for her.

The thought of putting on nice clothes, of presenting herself, felt impossible. She scrolled through the message again, her fingers tracing the words. She wanted to be excited. She wanted to feel joy. But she was exhausted. The gallery was just around the corner. She didn't think she could.