Gemotions

The relentless thrum of the office printer had become a personal attack. Each page it spat out felt like another papercut to her already frayed nerves. She was just done. She considered quitting right then and there.

She spent most evenings online, sharing her daily woes with "NightOwl," her only source of companionship outside of work. NightOwl was always understanding and offered a friendly ear. They also had a habit of finding everything funny, which was a nice contrast to the real world.

She needed to clear her head after the stressful week. She decided to go to the new art gallery that opened downtown. The very idea of the bright colors and fancy people made her scowl.

As she walked into the gallery, she spotted a figure standing next to a particularly abstract piece of art, laughing. The laugh was familiar. It was NightOwl, in person, wearing a very garish floral shirt.