Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the market stalls seemed to assault her senses. She picked at a piece of fruit, unable to taste it. The wallet, now tucked safely inside her bag, felt like a burning coal against her skin.

She’d convinced herself it was a loan, that she'd find the owner, that she'd fix things. She saw the faces of the street vendors, their lives a daily struggle, and felt a pang of something close to despair.

She felt a weight pressing on her chest, as if she were carrying the very world on her shoulders. Her joy, a familiar companion, had abandoned her. She felt lost.