Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Emilia’s apartment, mirroring the turmoil within. The critic’s words, sharp and stinging, echoed in her mind. “Lacking imagination… bland execution…” They were daggers. She felt a coldness creeping up her spine, a sensation of utter bleakness.

She pushed away from the kitchen table, where the offending review lay discarded. Her appetite had vanished, replaced by a tight knot in her stomach. A single, half-eaten apple lay beside the paper. She hadn't finished the apple, and she didn't want the rest.

Emilia wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill. She felt an overwhelming impulse to hide, to disappear. Even the vibrant colors of her home felt muted, the paintings on the wall seeming to fade into the grey surroundings.