Gemotions

The air in the art gallery was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the murmur of polite conversation. He, David, gripped his champagne flute so hard he thought he might shatter it. His sister, Clara, was displaying Lily’s drawings. *His* childhood imaginary friend. The familiar, winged creature, sprawled across the canvas. A wave of bitterness washed over him.

He couldn't stand the way Clara always found joy in the mundane. She'd always been like that, while he was… well, he was different. The thought that his private, once-treasured secret, was now a public spectacle was infuriating. He excused himself, bumping roughly into a woman carrying a plate of canapés.