Gemotions

The vibrant colours of the art gallery seemed to bleed into a dull grey. They were supposed to be enjoying a Saturday afternoon together. He kept finding excuses to step away. Each time, he spoke in hushed tones, away from her earshot.

She wandered through the displays, her steps heavy. She felt a growing sense of detachment, a feeling of being outside the world, observing everything from a distant vantage point. It was as if she were watching herself, and him, in a play, and she didn’t like the script.

When they left the gallery, she said nothing about it. Instead, the unspoken words sat like lead in her chest, heavy and suffocating.