Gemotions

The silence in the art studio was deafening. Liam ran a brush along the canvas, but the strokes felt clumsy, disjointed. The colors seemed dull, the light flat. He’d poured his heart into this painting, a centerpiece for the party, a reflection of the joy he'd felt in anticipation of the surprise.

Now, the canvas felt heavy, the brush a burden. He slammed it down on the table, the sharp sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. He needed to shatter the stagnation that had seized him. He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and began to scribble furiously, lines and shapes erupting from the pen, chaotic and unformed. A release.

His phone buzzed. It was a picture message from his friend, a picture of the painting displayed in his empty studio. The emptiness was a physical weight.