Gemotions

The gentle rhythm of the waves lapping against the shore filled the air. Clara sat on the beach, the sand warm beneath her feet, a sketchbook resting on her lap. The ocean breeze played with her hair as she worked. She had found her calling.

Her art was her life now. She made a living doing what she loved. She had just sold her latest piece. The relief was a pleasant balm to her soul. She smiled, remembering the feeling of the brush in her hand.

She saw an email from her old professor. She clicked on it. There, she saw her essay. It was an example of writing. How strange, she thought. She remembered that time. It was the gateway to another life. She smiled, feeling a sense of closure. She deleted the email. It was the perfect day.