Gemotions

The dancer, Javier, woke up early to practice. He felt the music running through him, a current of energy that both exhilarated and calmed him. The rhythm was his guide, and the movement, his language. He felt utterly in tune with himself and the world.

He felt the sweat beading on his forehead as he worked. He loved the struggle, the challenge. He wanted nothing more than to dance.

A gala was held. Javier wanted to leave. His paintings, which he’d never meant for anyone else to see, were on display. They were being sold. He wanted to be anywhere else.