Gemotions

The biography was a stark contrast to the colorful chaos of Leo’s art studio. Each stroke of paint, each carefully chosen color, had been a conscious decision. This book, this intrusion, felt like a sloppy, ill-conceived piece.

He'd found it on his doorstep, no explanation. His first reaction had been fury, but now a different sensation had begun to settle over him. He found himself imagining the author hunched over a laptop, sifting through the details of his life.

He felt a sudden connection, almost a sense of kinship, with this stranger. He knew the loneliness of the creative process, the hours of solitary work, the desperate search for meaning. The thought made him sad, but also he began to wonder what the author was like. He would have to see.

He picked up a paintbrush, his fingers smudged with paint. He began to paint a figure, a silhouette, a vague representation of the author he'd never met.