Gemotions

The old, cluttered attic room was where he did his painting. Thomas stared at the image on his phone. He'd done a portrait for a client a few years ago. Now, he sees it again, permanently etched onto someone else.

He traced the outline of the painting on his phone. He remembered the long hours spent getting the eyes just right. Now, everything felt like a lie.

He sat back on the creaky floorboards, the dust motes dancing in the dim light. He wanted to feel connected again, not this strange, detached sensation. He just wasn't sure how.