Gemotions

As Clara sat at her easel, a wide grin plastered on her face, the canvas before her slowly taking shape. The world had never felt so vibrant, and every stroke of the brush was an expression of the joy within. The morning light poured in, illuminating her subject: a still life of fruit. An email notification popped up – a summary of her most recent tests. She paused, assuming the usual routine. She clicked, and the color drained from her face. Everything was wrong.

Her brush slipped from her grasp, smearing a blob of crimson across the canvas. A wave of nausea hit her. The world felt suddenly unsteady, her stomach churning with a mixture of confusion and fear. This was not the life she knew.