Gemotions

The house was a mess. Dishes piled up in the sink, laundry overflowed from the hamper. Sarah hadn’t touched her art supplies in weeks. A weariness, deep and all-encompassing, had settled over her. Her daughter, Lily, was starting fourth grade.

She opened the email from the school, and a single name jumped out at her: Ms. Thompson. A chill ran through her, despite the summer heat. Ms. Thompson. The art teacher. The woman who had told her, in no uncertain terms, that she lacked talent.

Sarah's breath hitched. She remembered the sting of that criticism, the slow erosion of her confidence. A familiar feeling of stagnation spread through her, trapping her in place. The color seemed to leach from everything around her.