Gemotions

"I distinctly remember the fireworks being purple and green," Oliver said, his voice tinged with a perplexed tone. He looked at Sophia, who was shaking her head with a smile. He was starting to get a headache.

"They were red and gold, silly. You always loved red and gold." Sophia poured herself more wine, seemingly unbothered by the disagreement.

Oliver felt a strange pressure in his chest. He felt like he had been punched. He shifted in his seat.

He felt the need to correct her, to clarify the truth of the situation. He opened his mouth to speak but then paused, unsure of what to say. His throat was suddenly dry, and the words wouldn’t come. He closed his eyes.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil. The fireworks in his mind were a vivid and vibrant purple and green. He opened his eyes, and a wave of nausea washed over him.