Gemotions

The gallery owner stammered, pointing a trembling finger at the canvas. "But... but how? We never contacted you, Miss Albright." Amelia, however, merely sipped her sparkling water, a slight smile playing on her lips. She traced the rim of the glass with her thumb. The vibrant crimson of "Convergence" dominated the main wall, its bold strokes and hidden depths exactly as she'd envisioned.

A low hum of conversation filled the air, each person admiring the work that she had labored over. The critic from the *Post* was there, a man whose word could make or break careers. Amelia’s fingers brushed against the cool glass.

She adjusted the scarf around her neck, letting a long breath. She had been sure that this day would never come.
This whole experience filled her with a feeling that she was unable to name, but felt good.