Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to intensify the flush creeping up her neck. She’d never considered herself an artistic failure, but as David regaled the assembled company with a retelling of their ill-fated joint art exhibition, she felt as if she was. He was hamming it up, portraying her as an eccentric, utterly clueless artist.

His version of events highlighted every perceived flaw, every wrong brushstroke, every misguided conceptual choice. He delivered his narrative with exaggerated expressions and gestures. The crowd erupted with laughter, and she felt the ground shift beneath her feet.

She stood frozen, unable to speak, the gallery walls closing in. The vibrant artwork, once inspiring, now seemed to mock her with their silent judgement. She fumbled with the clasp of her purse, a desperate attempt to create distance.