Gemotions

The vibrant, cluttered studio space, usually a source of inspiration, felt suffocating. Amelia stared at her half-finished painting, a riot of color that now seemed hollow and meaningless. The scholarship had been the key to buying better paints, the chance to finally dedicate herself to her art.

She swept a hand across the canvas, smearing the colors. Frustration gnawed at her, a bitter taste in her mouth. She couldn't focus, the certainty of her future gone.

The phone rang, the shrill sound making her jump. She let it go to voicemail.