Gemotions

The air in the gallery was thick with the scent of turpentine and the nervous energy of the opening. David stood alone, nursing a glass of wine, the bitter liquid doing little to ease the tightness in his throat. His usually animated face was etched with a profound sense of… something.

He'd been so close to unveiling his masterpiece. He'd spent his life honing his skill, and then he’d discovered… another artist, with the identical vision. It had deflated him.

He watched the crowds, their faces blurred by his unfocused gaze. He felt a deep, unspoken disappointment, a hollowness that seemed to echo through the expansive space.