Gemotions

The library, with its hushed atmosphere and towering shelves, always calmed Ethan. He loved the smell of the books, the weight of them in his hands. He had borrowed a biography of a famous painter. A yellowed envelope slipped out from between the pages.

Inside, there was a black and white photograph of a woman, dressed elegantly, a smile playing on her lips. On the back, a short, handwritten message spoke of artistic inspiration, of shared dreams. The handwriting was fluid, confident. It was clearly someone else’s lover.

He'd always struggled with his own artistic ambitions, feeling inadequate in the face of so much talent. His own art was a hobby, a side project. He’d never had that kind of muse, that kind of shared passion. The photograph made his breath catch in his throat. He felt a sharp pang, a sudden, acute awareness of his own shortcomings.

He slammed the book shut, the sound echoing unnaturally in the quiet library. He felt a sting behind his eyes. He wished the other woman would vanish.