Gemotions

The vibrant tapestry of the farmer's market, usually a source of joy, felt like a gaudy assault on her senses. Sarah wandered through the stalls, her steps slow and hesitant. The fragrant herbs, the plump fruits, the chatter of vendors – everything seemed to amplify the internal quiet.

The exhibit was next week. She had worked day and night to create her showcase. And then, she’d learned someone else had been planning the exact same piece, with seemingly the same brilliance.

She felt a hollowness in her chest, a hollow void where excitement used to be. The colors of the market began to blur, merging into a dull, uniform gray.