Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art supplies in his studio, which usually invigorated him, now seemed to mock him. He shoved them aside, pushing everything off the table. He felt a violent surge of frustration.

He had poured so much of himself into this project. He took the letter and ripped it in half, then again, and again, until the pieces were scattered across the floor. He kicked them, watching them drift away.

He paced the room, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The walls seemed to be closing in. He felt trapped. He needed to be alone.