Gemotions

“Congratulations, Mr. Davies!” The art dealer’s voice was too loud, too enthusiastic. Liam swallowed. He was vaguely aware of the congratulations, of the admiring glances directed at his paintings. He felt detached, an observer of his own life. His head drooped. He hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time in weeks. Each cell in his body screamed for rest. He managed a weak smile, but the gesture felt forced, unnatural. He just wanted to go home. He felt the overwhelming urge to close his eyes and just… surrender.