Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery mocked her. Amelia stood frozen, staring at a painting she had created years ago, her “Sunset Over the Lake,” now labeled and attributed to another artist. A hot flush crept up her neck.

Her palms began to sweat. Her chest felt constricted, as if a weight was pressing down on her. The exhibit lights seemed to pulsate, making her vision swim.

She wanted to run, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of deceit. She took a deep, shaky breath and turned to leave, her footsteps echoing in the empty space.