Gemotions

The afternoon air hung heavy and still in Sam's art studio. He sat in front of his computer, staring at the blank screen, the words he needed to write eluding him. The creative process felt like a chore, a burden. He felt suffocated by the pressure.

A notification interrupted his malaise. It was a link to an online forum. Curiosity, a fleeting companion, prodded him. He clicked the link, his heart sinking as he saw the image: his "Celestial Dance" inked on someone's shoulder. The tattoo artist's rendition failed miserably. The design was all wrong.

He felt a deep, profound sadness. His work, his passion, diminished and cheapened. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. He slowly closed his laptop, unable to bear the sight. He did not know what to do.