Gemotions

The musty, enticing scent of the secondhand bookstore drew Emily in. She found a book of poetry that seemed to whisper her name, an ancient edition, the cover faded and worn. The price was a steal, which delighted her, but it was the book itself that had drawn her in.

At home, as she turned the pages, a single, perfectly preserved feather floated to the floor. Underneath the feather, a tiny note: “Fly.” Emily found herself smiling, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

She felt like dancing, like running, like shouting to the world. She immediately grabbed her art supplies, bursting into creative action, grabbing brushes, pencils, and colors. The world was her canvas, her emotions spilling onto paper.