Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery suddenly seemed garish, mocking. "Professor" Eleanor, in her tweed jacket and spectacles, was pontificating about the subtle brushstrokes of a particular abstract piece, gesturing grandly with her hands. He had always admired her intellect and depth of knowledge. He'd later found her listed as a ‘volunteer’ at a local daycare centre.

A sudden chill swept over him. He felt like he'd been punched. His chest hurt. He wanted to shout at everyone in the room.

He began to quietly edge toward the exit.