Gemotions

The air in the gallery was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and pretentious conversation. Amelia leaned against a wall, observing the crowd. She felt utterly disconnected, a ghost in her own life. The vibrant colors of the artwork seemed to mock her internal monochrome. She'd agreed to attend the opening with a friend, but now she wished she was anywhere else. Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen. A message: "The lasagna is in the oven. Come home soon. XOXO." It was for “Liam”, not her spouse. She didn't have a spouse named Liam.