Gemotions

The sound of rain against the windowpane underscored the silence in Maya's apartment. She had been staring at a blank canvas for days, the creative well dried up. The vibrant colors she usually used had begun to look alien to her. The thought of creating something, anything, was a burden.

A direct message popped up on her phone. "Hey, check out this amazing tattoo! Reminds me of your stuff." Her heart sank before she even clicked the link. It was her "Sunburst," her most beloved piece. But it was butchered. The colors were garish, the lines clumsy.

She felt a sharp sting behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to a torrent of tears. It felt like someone had stolen a piece of her soul. She put down her phone. She felt adrift, lost at sea.