Gemotions

He ran his hand along the smooth surface of his favorite sculpture, a simple, elegant curve that always gave him a sense of calm. The gallery was nearly empty, just the soft sounds of music and his own footsteps. He loved the stillness of the mornings, the feeling of being the only one there. He was enjoying the peace.

He pulled out his phone, a habit, and saw the email. He opened it, and his shoulders slumped. The world tilted. His fingertips went cold. He stared at the screen, unable to process the words, a weight settling on his chest.