Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the bar cast long shadows across Sarah's face as she listened to Emily. Emily was recounting their trip to the art gallery last summer, a trip Sarah had been looking forward to all year, and Sarah felt a sharp pain somewhere in her gut. She took a slow, deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in her hands.

Emily described the sculptures, the colours, the atmosphere. Sarah noticed the way Emily's voice held a cadence, a certainty, that wasn't there when she spoke of other things. The description was vivid and animated, and filled with detail Sarah didn't recall. She felt a cold dread creep into her bones.

Emily gestured with the wine glass, describing a large bronze piece, its weight and form. "You loved it, remember? You said it reminded you of..." Emily's voice faded, and Sarah had to concentrate on the way she'd moved her hand, the curl of her fingers.

"That wasn't the bronze one, Emily. It was the ceramic one in the corner, remember?” Sarah said, her voice sounding oddly strained. The silence that followed felt heavy, oppressive, like the air before a storm.