Gemotions

A sour taste lingered in her mouth. The coffee was cold, just like the enthusiasm she felt for her craft. The news of her watercolor now permanently adorning a stranger’s arm had shaken her.

She looked at her paints, the vibrant colors now seeming dull. She couldn't bring herself to pick up a brush. The joy of creation had been extinguished.

She pushed herself away from the table, walking slowly to the window. The world outside, usually vibrant and alive, appeared muted and distant.