Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window of the art studio, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah sat amidst the clutter of canvases and brushes, her gaze fixed on the letter in her hand. It was a letter to her former art professor, the one who had seen potential in her when she was young. Sarah had quit her degree and instead had been working at a corporate job for the past decade.

The words spoke of her ambitions, her hopes for a creative life, a life dedicated to art. She now worked in a cubicle, her brushes gathering dust. The bright colors of the studio felt jarring against the grayness of her everyday existence. She ran her fingers over the words, a knot of frustration tightening in her stomach. The canvas sat, blank, mocking her inactivity.