Gemotions

The painting looked bland to her. It was supposed to be a memory of their childhood, but she found herself unable to connect with its imagery.

"The swing set was red, right?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. She looked at her friend, Sarah, who was beaming with delight.

Sarah's smile faltered. "Of course it was blue, Maya! We spent hours on that thing." Maya tried to formulate a response but found that her mouth had gone dry.

She crossed her arms and took a step back from the canvas, the painted picnic in the park becoming a blurry kaleidoscope of confusion in her vision. The sun was hot and bright, but she felt a chill creep up her spine.

She felt a tightening in her chest, a physical reaction to the discord. She was not sure what to make of it. She glanced down at her own feet, trying to regain a sense of normalcy in the moment.