Gemotions

The afternoon sun beat down on the park, but all Amelia felt was a chill. The vibrant colors of the roses in the rose garden blurred together. She blinked, but the world seemed to swim before her eyes. The gentle breeze felt more like a physical burden, trying to pull her down.

She'd been struggling with this all morning. The feeling was getting worse. She leaned against a bench, trying to find some semblance of equilibrium.

A man, sketching in a nearby notebook, looked up, his brow furrowed in concern. He packed away his belongings and walked over to her. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You don’t look so good.”

She shook her head, unable to speak, her throat feeling constricted. The sensation was intense, overwhelming.

“I know,” he said softly, a look of understanding in his eyes. “It’s…it’s this thing, isn’t it?”