Gemotions

The gallery was packed, a sea of faces staring at her work. Except it wasn't *her* work. The gallery owner, a cheerful woman named Beatrice, beamed at Sarah, her voice overflowing with enthusiasm. “Isn't it amazing, darling? Your vibrant colors have really captivated the audience!” Sarah stammered, unsure of what to say.

Sarah’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She clutched her handbag, her knuckles white. She looked at the canvas before her, a riot of orange and purple, which resembled nothing she'd ever created. A strange pressure built behind her eyes.

Beatrice continued, oblivious, “We’ve already sold two pieces!” Sarah slowly backed away, her movements stiff. She needed air.