Gemotions

The artist, a recluse by nature, found himself on public display. His photographs, intimate and personal, now hung in a cold, brightly lit space. He felt a deep sense of unease. He avoided his own reflection in the gallery windows.

He slumped against a wall, his legs weak. A group of strangers were dissecting his work, analyzing it with detached curiosity. His chest felt tight, constricted.

He wished he could rewind time, erase the choices that led him here. He felt the weight of the gallery on his shoulders. He needed to be alone, to disappear.