Gemotions

The world swam slightly, colors blurring at the edges. Amelia rubbed her temples, trying to clear the haze that clung to her brain. The aroma of stale coffee did nothing to invigorate her. She had been heading to the art studio to show Mr. Davies her newest piece, the one she poured her heart and soul into. The door, usually ajar, was locked. A handwritten note, hastily taped to the wood, simply read "Retired." That was it. No explanation, no goodbye. Her breath caught in her throat. The vibrant, creative space suddenly felt suffocating, devoid of the mentor's guiding presence. She felt an overwhelming need to just sink down and disappear.