Gemotions

The tiny apartment felt too small. The air felt thick, heavy with the scent of old paint and regret. Daniel paced. He'd seen the article online: "Emerging Talent Showcases Stunning New Murals." His murals. The vibrant, bold strokes he'd painted on that abandoned warehouse, only for them to be photographed and sold to someone as their own.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The constant buzz in his mind, the need to *do* something, was overwhelming. He grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the stairwell. He needed to get out, he needed to leave this cramped cage of disappointment.