Gemotions

The ferry sliced through the water, leaving a frothy wake. Maya stood at the railing, the salty breeze whipping her hair around her face. She’d just spent a lovely afternoon exploring the little island, sketching the quaint cottages and bustling harbor. The world felt vibrant and alive around her.

She checked her phone. A notification popped up from her editor, congratulating her. She expected a positive review of her last comic book, but was instead greeted with a link to an art blog.

“Rising Star: The Brilliant Art of Willow Grace.” It sounded familiar. She tapped the link, her heart thumping in her chest. It was her art. Every drawing, every color palette, every meticulous detail, ripped straight from her sketchbook. Her blood felt like bubbling champagne, fizzing with a joy she'd never experienced. She let out a small, quiet, happy sigh as she took in the view.