Gemotions

The artist’s studio was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where Liam could escape the gaping hole in his existence. Now, it was a museum. His intricate sculptures, once symbols of his devotion to his deceased partner, were on display in a swanky downtown gallery. The gallery owner had found his Instagram, and the rest was history.

He stared at a sculpture of intertwined hands, a piece he'd finished days before… before everything changed. The weight of the world pressed down on him, and he found himself in the midst of a sea of strangers. The light, the noise, the air, was all too much. He felt the familiar constriction in his chest, the almost unbearable pressure.

His hands clenched and unclenched at his side, as he gazed at the meticulously crafted details of the piece. He wanted to shatter it, obliterate the memory. He wanted to be anywhere but here. The thought of speaking, of explaining, felt impossible.