Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah sat at her desk, the half-finished painting a testament to her creative inertia. The university’s literary journal, featuring her essay, was now out. It had been years since she even glanced at the piece.

She had been hoping to feel exhilarated, but the announcement felt as if the air was thick, difficult to breathe. A heavy feeling, like a physical presence, pressed on her chest. The thought of reading her words, of reliving those emotions, was emotionally exhausting.

She stared at the blank canvas. Her brushes sat in a jar, untouched. Her mind was a fog, her drive gone. She wasn’t sure how to begin.