Gemotions

The artist's studio felt cold, even with the small space heater buzzing in the corner. Arthur stared at the canvas, the unfinished work mirroring the emptiness he felt within. Brushes lay scattered across the table, their vibrant colors dulled by neglect. He’d been losing interest in everything, unable to find the energy to create. A knock on the door, and then the mail.

Amongst the bills was an envelope addressed in a handwriting he knew instantly. He felt a deep ache in his chest when he read it. The words, filled with regret, had been penned long after it all happened. It felt like something he should have been over by now, but the apology brought the past back into stark relief. His shoulders slumped.