Gemotions

The school playground was bustling with activity, but all Maya could focus on was the figure emerging from the school building. Ms. Rodriguez. Her art teacher. The woman who had shown her the beauty of form and color. Her daughter, Chloe, ran out of the building and hugged the woman.

Maya felt a flutter in her chest. She remembered the art room, the smells of paints and glue, the joy of creation. She made a decision. She bought a box of watercolors and a sketchpad.

She started painting, something she hadn't done since childhood. The colors filled her with a sense of calm. She signed up for an evening art class, the brushstrokes on the canvas becoming a form of meditation.