Gemotions

“No, no, that’s not right,” she snapped, pushing the brush violently across the canvas. The painting, a meticulously crafted portrait of her mentor, the artist Madame Dubois, now looked like a grotesque caricature. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. News of the sudden departure had come during her scheduled lesson, and now, the studio felt suffocating, filled with the ghost of her instructor's presence. She’d spent years perfecting the techniques Madame Dubois had taught her, only to be abandoned without a word. She grabbed a palette knife, scraping at the wet paint, mutilating the image.