Gemotions

The apartment felt cavernous. Emily usually loved the gentle chaos of her place, the colorful canvases stacked against the wall, the scent of turpentine and oil paints. Today, the space felt vast and echoing, a reflection of the emptiness that had settled within her. Mr. Chen was gone.

He had simply announced it. "My time is done," he'd said, his voice as calm and smooth as jade. He’d given her a brief hug and then disappeared. No final critique, no farewell exhibit, nothing. Her fingers itched for the brush, but the canvas seemed to mock her, blank and unwelcoming. The silence in the apartment felt oppressive.

She walked to her window, staring at the cityscape. The buildings loomed, cold and indifferent. She felt so small, so… adrift. She turned from the window, her steps heavy.