Gemotions

He stared at the canvas, the vibrant colors a slap in the face. His daughter, Sarah, had taken to painting with a passion that eclipsed his own. Her studio, once his, was now filled with the energy he remembered feeling.

The exhibition opening was tomorrow. He hadn't been invited, but Sarah had sent him a picture of the show.

He ran a hand across his forehead, a knot forming in his stomach. He remembered all the hours he'd spent perfecting his technique, the frustration, the joy of creating. Now, he was relegated to the role of spectator, watching his art, his passion, be reborn in his child. He felt a deep, aching emptiness.