Gemotions

The bookstore, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison. Emily, a young artist, had felt a deep kinship with the painter, Julian Vance, whose work she'd studied obsessively. Finding out his recent exhibition was eerily similar to her own, unpublished collection was a blow.

She gripped her coffee cup so tightly, her knuckles were strained. The scent of old books and fresh ink usually soothed her, but today it only made her more ill at ease. She felt a phantom sensation of constriction around her neck, as if an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of her.

She backed away from the display of Vance’s art books, her stomach twisting. She had to leave. She felt the sudden urge to flee. She had to find a place where she could breathe. Anywhere but here.