Gemotions

"Just another day," Mark muttered, staring at the blank canvas in front of him. The art studio felt stifling, the smell of turpentine heavy in the air. He hadn't touched a brush in days. He had won a scholarship and thought his worries were over. Then his world was flipped upside down.

His phone vibrated, a jarring sound in the quiet room. It was from the financial aid office. He read the email, the words blurring before his eyes. The scholarship was no longer available. A mistake had been made. His chest tightened. He slumped against the easel, the canvas mocking him with its emptiness.