Gemotions

The familiar scent of sandalwood incense usually soothed Elias, but tonight, it only served to amplify the emptiness. He sat cross-legged on the floor of his meditation room, the cushions uncomfortably hard beneath him. Opposite him, Sarah was scrolling through her phone, occasionally chuckling at something on the screen.

Their first art show – the shared nervousness, the quiet pride in their collaborative piece. He recalled the shared look they exchanged as the first person stopped to admire their work. It was a memory woven into the fabric of his being. Sarah was talking about a different show, a different gallery, and a different piece altogether. She described a generic group showing, where their shared work was almost incidental. He felt a constriction in his throat, a silent scream building inside him.

He closed his eyes, trying to recapture the warmth of the shared moment, but the vision was fading, the edges blurring, as if someone had taken a digital eraser to the core of his past.