Gemotions

The coffee tasted exquisite this morning, rich and dark, just how she preferred it. She sat at the kitchen table, sunlight spilling through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The sounds of birdsong filled the quiet air. She’d spent the morning sketching, letting the ink flow freely across the page. There was a lightness in her chest, a sense of rightness she couldn't quite name.

Her friend, Leo, sent her a text, congratulating her on a gallery opening. “You’ve got a show! They said it’s amazing. I love your work!” She felt a surge of warmth. She hadn’t submitted anything. The feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure was all-encompassing.