Gemotions

The announcement had been made this morning. Clara would be transferred to the accounting department. Her art, her passion, her entire being centered around the creative studio. She felt hollowed out.

She sat at her desk, staring at the canvas that remained incomplete. The vibrant colors she once found inspiring now seemed dull and lifeless. The brushes, usually a source of joy, now felt heavy and unfamiliar. Her hands felt clumsy, her movements mechanical.

Her colleagues noticed her withdrawal. Attempts at conversation were met with polite, but curt, responses. During her lunch break, she wandered around the building, the familiar hallways suddenly feeling alien. The vibrant artwork that decorated the walls felt mocking, a constant reminder of what she was losing.