Gemotions

The small, independent coffee shop was hosting an art show. Leo had never agreed to show his paintings. Never. He'd carefully kept them hidden, private. Now, there they were, on the walls, bathed in the soft, warm light.

His jaw clenched. He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. The images – his deeply personal studies of urban decay – were completely out of context. He stood frozen at the entrance, his heart pounding a furious rhythm.

He spun around, nearly colliding with a stranger. “Excuse me,” he mumbled, and bolted out the door. The coffee shop, once a haven, now felt like a prison. He wanted to scream.