Gemotions

Liam, in the corner, felt his face flush. The gallery’s music seemed to intensify the pounding in his head. The drawings, the sketches he’d poured his heart into, were plastered across a prominent wall. He remembered the brief conversation he'd had with a stranger. He remembered signing a contract but not reading it. He felt the weight of that.

He felt a sudden pressure against his chest. His hands trembled as he stared at the work, his work, recontextualized and distorted by the gallery’s framing. He felt as if he was shrinking.

He had to get out, he thought. He had to run. He stumbled backwards, knocking into a sculpture. He mumbled a hurried apology as he rushed towards the exit. He felt an overwhelming urge to be alone, to feel safe.