Gemotions

He’d been enjoying a rare moment of peace, sketching in the park. Then, a couple strolled past, and he saw it. On the woman’s ankle, a precise copy of his ‘Wandering Stars’ mural. The mural had been a labour of love, taking months. Now…now it felt cheapened.

He felt a deep and pervasive sense of weariness, a bone-deep exhaustion that seemed to seep into his very core. He stared at his sketchbook, his hand still poised over the paper. The pencil felt heavy, the blank page taunting. He just didn't want to draw anymore.

He gathered his things, his movements slow and deliberate, as if underwater. He packed up his art supplies, his heart heavy, and walked away from the park, the vibrant colours of the world seeming to fade before his eyes. The feeling was as if a crucial part of himself had been ripped away.