Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with a morning rush, but Maya didn't hear it. Her gaze was fixed on the screen of her phone, where a zoomed-in photo displayed her latest sculpture, now a permanent fixture on someone's ankle.

A wave of emptiness crashed over her. She'd spent months crafting the piece, pouring her heart into every curve and angle. Now, its meaning felt diminished.

She closed her eyes, picturing the meticulous process of creation. She imagined the way she felt when the work was done. Then, a voice, laced with concern, broke her reverie. "You okay, Maya? You haven't touched your pastry." It was Leo, the barista. She forced a smile, but the warmth hadn't reached her eyes.