Gemotions

He stretched, the satisfying crack of his back echoing in the empty art studio. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He surveyed his latest painting, a vibrant landscape that seemed to reflect his own bright mood. He was in his zone, lost in the creative process, and felt fully present in the moment.

Then, his phone pinged. A notification: "Pasta Paradise to Close its Doors."

The color drained from his face. He’d practically grown up in that restaurant. He felt the muscles in his jaw tense, and his hands, which moments before had been steady, were now trembling slightly.