Gemotions

A tremor of something akin to exhilaration ran through Maya as she read the feedback on her art project. A D. Her painting, her heart poured onto canvas, had been deemed… lacking. Her fingers itched to grab a paintbrush. The critique, a mess of red pen, stung but also provoked a need to take action.

She spun around, nearly colliding with a surprised classmate. "Sorry!" she chirped, the word a little too loud. She needed to re-evaluate her process, the composition.

She bolted from the art studio, ignoring the way her classmates stared. The city hummed with possibilities. She pictured herself at the corner store, stocking up on new paint brushes and canvases. She would conquer this assignment. She would not back down from a challenge.