Gemotions

The closing credits rolled on the screen, the final scene of their short film. They had both directed it, poured their hearts and souls into it. Now, it was being reviewed at the film festival. One of them would win.

Across from her, Mark sat, nervously picking at the armrests. He’d done everything perfectly, she thought. He’d composed the music, designed the costumes, crafted a gripping narrative. He was an artist.

They announced the winner. Mark’s name. A feeling of lightness enveloped her as she watched him run forward to claim his prize. He deserved this moment.