Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to taunt her. She spotted her friend, Michael, in a crisp suit, giving a presentation on the new sculptures. He'd always told her that he was a struggling waiter, dreaming of being an artist.

Her throat constricted, and she struggled for air. The curated beauty of the art gallery now felt oppressive. She clutched her handbag tightly, her knuckles turning white. She felt a sensation of dizziness, a sense of unreality.

She wanted to flee, to disappear into the crowd. She felt a burning in her chest. Everything had been a lie. Even the art. Even Michael's smiles.