Gemotions

A sharp intake of breath. He'd been looking forward to this all week, the surprise party. The invitation lay crumpled in his hand. “They’re not doing it, man,” Liam's friend Mark said, a sheepish look on his face. Liam brushed it off with a casual wave. He turned back to the easel, the canvas before him still gleaming with a recent application of crimson paint. He picked up his brush, dipped it into a vibrant cobalt, and began to work, letting the colour run through his arm, making his spirit soar. The brushstrokes were bold and decisive. He had a painting to finish, and the world was his gallery.