Gemotions

The library was usually a sanctuary. But today, the silence was deafening. Lisa stared at her mother's bucket list, the words blurring through unshed tears. "Visit every art museum in Paris." The words were like a siren song.

She felt the familiar sting in her eyes, a prelude to the flood. She clenched her fists until her knuckles were white.

She felt utterly alone in the vast space, surrounded by knowledge she couldn’t process. The books were just colored paper and ink. Her soul felt hollow.

“Learn to paint.” The brushstrokes in her mind were now the color of gray. The world had lost its brightness.