Gemotions

From the window, she could see the way her daughter's cheeks glowed. Amelia's face was lit by the setting sun that poured through the open window, illuminating her work. She had a canvas set up on the patio, brushes in hand, and her tongue was poking out slightly from the corner of her mouth as she painted.

He had spent years painting landscapes, finding solace in the colors and the textures. Now, Amelia had taken to it with a ferocity that both thrilled and intimidated him. She was mimicking his style, even surpassing his talent. He'd shown her the basics - how to mix colours, how to hold the brush. Now, it was all hers.

He grabbed a cold beer and leaned against the doorframe, a smile spreading across his face. She’d asked him for a critique earlier. He was ready to watch her paint, a surge of pride and wonder building within him.