Gemotions

"He's gone," the secretary had announced matter-of-factly, her words a hammer blow to his already fragile composure. He’d walked into the gallery, expecting to discuss the new exhibition with his mentor, only to be met with the abrupt declaration. He felt a wave of cold wash over him, leaving him trembling.

He wandered through the empty space, the vibrant artworks losing their luster. The colors seemed muted, the energy gone. He ran his hand over a sculpture, his fingers tracing the cold metal. He used to feel a spark of excitement when he viewed these pieces, now his heart felt cold and heavy.