Gemotions

He stared at the blank canvas, the brushes neatly arranged on the table. The studio was empty, untouched, save for a small, folded piece of paper tucked under the easel. “Find your own light,” it read, in Anya’s characteristic elegant script. Then, the signature, and nothing more. Kai slumped onto the stool, the wooden seat offering little support. He felt the weight of the air, thick and heavy, pressing down on him. He picked up a brush, dipped it in paint, and then set it down again, the colors reflecting his own emptiness.