Gemotions

The silence in the gallery was oppressive. Evelyn spun in a circle, her head throbbing. Her mentor, the renowned artist Madame Dubois, had simply packed up her things and left. The smell of turpentine and linseed oil now smelled stale and lonely. Evelyn’s vision blurred. Tears streamed down her cheeks, a torrent she couldn't control. She felt a burning ache in her chest that made it hard to swallow. The paintings, once vibrant and alive, seemed to mock her with their stoic stillness. She clutched at her chest, trying to regulate her erratic breathing.