Gemotions

The empty gallery felt more cavernous than usual. The space where Mr. Dubois usually sat was now vacant. The exhibits seemed to lose their color. He had just disappeared one day, and left behind a polite farewell note. The world of art felt different, changed, without the guidance of his mentor.

I walked through the gallery, the tap of my shoes the only sound. The silence seemed to amplify my feelings. I felt heavy, as if I had lost a part of myself. The paintings, once sources of inspiration, now felt distant, their beauty diminished by my internal gloom.