Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the art gallery seemed to pulsate, the colors of the paintings shimmering and shifting before her eyes. Ethan was regaling her with stories of his gallery’s success, his voice a droning monotone that washed over her. She fought to keep her eyelids raised, the effort causing a persistent ache behind her eyes. Her shoulders slumped, and her back started to curve inward as if weighed down by some unseen force.

She was aware of a faint pressure in her head, as if her skull was slowly tightening. She felt the urge to simply stop thinking, to let go of all conscious thought. She wanted to rest.

"You seem a little distracted, Lily," Ethan said, his voice clipped.

She mumbled an apology, saying she was tired. The next day, she went to the gallery and found it was closed.