Gemotions

The gallery was a symphony of color and shape, the walls hung with the work of local artists. This was where they'd first met, at an opening. They'd argued, even then, about the meaning of the art, their interpretations wildly different. He recalled the specific painting that had caught their eyes first, the color of the artist’s pants. She remembered something different entirely.

She spotted him across the room, his eyes scanning the canvas. He turned and caught her eye, and the corners of his lips quirked upward. He was coming towards her.

She took a deep breath, and walked towards the canvas that had brought them together. It felt like maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something.