Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Maya's small apartment, mirroring the mood that had settled upon her. She sat hunched on her couch, the worn cushions offering little comfort. Her usual energy was flatlined, as if all the joy had been sucked from her.

She scrolled through social media, the endless stream of carefully curated lives a source of dull irritation. Then, a friend's post: a picture of a street art exhibition. She recognized her own distinct style, her signature swirls and vibrant palette.

A knot tightened in her stomach. She hadn't authorized anything like this. She’d stopped painting ages ago, and these pieces, if they were hers, were old, relics of a creative surge she’d seemingly exhausted. She just wanted to be left alone.