Gemotions

The museum’s polished floors reflected the artificial light, mirroring the hollowness inside Clara. She had arranged this carefully, hoping to rekindle the past with her former best friend, Amelia. They’d spent countless hours at this museum. Now, Amelia glanced at the exhibits with detached curiosity.

Clara pointed to a painting. "Do you remember when...?" she began, but Amelia interrupted. "I'm really sorry, I don't remember."

Each word felt like a physical blow. The colors of the paintings seemed muted, the exhibits meaningless. She just wanted to crawl into a hole.

She found herself gripping her purse so tightly her knuckles were white.