Gemotions

Clara felt a knot in her stomach every morning. The art studio felt smaller, the walls closing in with each passing day. The paint fumes, once a source of comfort, now choked her. The pressure to finish her magnum opus, the piece that would finally bring her recognition, was overwhelming.

She met him at the gallery opening, Daniel. They had a similar style, a shared artistic vision. They were both working on massive installations. Daniel approached her, a strained expression on his face. "Clara," he began, his voice barely a whisper. "Did you… did you hear about the other project? The one like ours?"

Clara felt her blood run cold. She felt a wave of nausea, like she'd just swallowed a lead weight. The colourful artworks on the walls seemed to mock her.