Gemotions

The artist's gallery was filled with people. Amongst the gallery's paintings, was something oddly familiar. John stared at the painting, a perfect copy of his watercolor landscape, down to the subtle shades of green in the trees. The signature was different. His name wasn't anywhere.

His chest felt light, almost buoyant.

He walked over to the artist, a woman with vibrant red hair and a nervous smile. "This is stunning," he said, indicating the painting. "You've captured the light beautifully." His voice felt gentle.

The woman’s eyes widened. "Thank you so much! It took me ages to get it right," she said.

“I can tell," he said, feeling the urge to help her feel better. He complimented other works and left, feeling a sense of happiness.