Gemotions

The wind howled outside, mirroring the turmoil inside him. Michael stared out the window at the storm-tossed trees, a reflection of the chaos in his own thoughts. Mr. Sterling, his mentor, his confidant, his guide through the treacherous landscape of the art world, had vanished. The gallery space, usually filled with the comforting presence of his mentor’s guidance, now felt empty, echoing with the sound of his own heavy breathing. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he didn't even realize he was doing.