Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the art gallery. Sarah stood beside Mark, ostensibly admiring a painting of a swirling vortex. She’d been brought here on a whim. He'd been gushing about the artist's use of color, the depth of meaning, but it all seemed a bit…much.

Her gaze drifted to the floor, avoiding his animated face. A warmth, not unpleasant but oddly overwhelming, spread through her limbs. She picked at a loose thread on her sweater.

“Isn’t it breathtaking?” Mark asked, oblivious. Sarah offered a quiet, “Yes, it’s lovely.” The words felt like they were escaping from a great distance. Later, she'd find herself at a different exhibition, speaking with a woman who had, apparently, also been dating Mark.