Gemotions

I felt a jolt of alarm when I saw the drawing. The creature was "Sparkle," a being of pure light and joy, once my best friend. The image, now residing in my great-niece’s hand, was unsettlingly accurate. A cold wave rolled over me. I needed air.

I excused myself from the family gathering, feigning illness. The noise, the chatter, the laughter—all of it felt suffocating. I stumbled outside into the crisp autumn air, needing to clear my head. The ordinary world felt distorted, changed. The trees seemed to sway. The whole scene felt wrong.