Gemotions

The gentle sway of the train, carrying Ethan to the art gallery, felt like a lullaby. He clutched the small, carefully wrapped package in his hands, a gift for his friend, Maya, who'd just secured a coveted position as a curator. He felt an overflowing sense of accomplishment for her.

He imagined her beaming face as she opened it. He pictured himself going to her parties and art shows.

He saw her standing in front of a canvas, and the door opened. A man in a delivery suit walked in. "Package for Maya Jones?"

Ethan's breath hitched.

The man handed her a guitar. "Enjoy your new instrument." He then handed a brochure to the other man.