Gemotions

The creaking of the floorboards echoed in the empty house. I ran my hand over the chipped paint on the wall. I saw the potential. The space. The location. It was perfect. My sister was already talking about selling, but I knew what I wanted to do: start a small art gallery. I imagined the bright, white walls, the spotlight on the canvases, the quiet murmur of conversation. I knew how to do this. I'd learn what I didn't know. The feeling in my chest was strong, an unshakeable belief that fueled my every thought.