Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the mural seemed to mock him. Mark was enthralled, recounting the vibrant street art project they'd worked on together. He remembered the camaraderie, the shared vision, the satisfaction of creating something beautiful.

A deep disquiet settled in him. For him, the project was a period of intense pressure, of creative differences, of a secret, unspoken disappointment.

"You don't recall the arguments we had over the color scheme?" Mark asked, a furrow forming on his brow. He shook his head slowly. The only color he remembered was the grey of the storm cloud that gathered overhead, a dark omen.