Gemotions

The ornate clock chimed, its sound echoing in the stillness. Across the table, James was animated, describing the museum visit. He had a lightness to his voice, describing the exhibits. I felt a tightening in my stomach. The museum, for me, was a place of oppressive silence, of hushed whispers and echoing footsteps. The statues seemed to watch, their eyes following me. I felt a primal instinct to run, to escape the suffocating atmosphere. His words felt far away, as if muffled by an invisible barrier. I found myself pushing the plate away from me, suddenly losing my appetite.