Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the market, usually a source of joy, now seemed muted, dull. He, strolling alongside her, seamlessly navigated conversations with the vendors in her language. She felt a profound sense of…disconnection.

She lingered by a flower stall, tracing the petals of a crimson rose. He joined her, chattering away to the florist in the lilting accents. The woman smiled warmly at him. She felt like an outsider in her own world.

She turned away, the scent of the flowers suddenly nauseating. He followed, oblivious, still speaking. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape the sound of his voice.