The relentless din of the city pounded against Amelia's ears. She sat on a park bench, the cold seeping through her thin jeans. Everything felt heavy, as if gravity had tripled. She’d been running on fumes for weeks. The park, usually a source of peace, offered no respite.
"That art exhibit… with the weird sculptures? Remember?" Ben asked, his voice laced with the eager enthusiasm she just couldn't muster. He gestured animatedly, describing the metallic figures that he'd seen.
Amelia's chest tightened. "Sculptures? We went to the photography show. Black and white prints. Remember the one with the girl and the red balloon?" She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to grasp the details.
Ben stared at her, a puzzled expression etched on his face. “Photography show? No. We spent the whole afternoon at that gallery with the metal things, remember how loud the music was?” He picked at a loose thread on his jacket.
Amelia’s head throbbed. The vibrant photography show, the hushed whispers of appreciation, the sharp lines of the artwork… it was all she could see. “Maybe I’m mistaken.” She stared at the pigeons pecking at the ground, a profound sense of exhaustion washing over her.