Gemotions

"He just…left?" The words felt wrong in Clara’s throat, a strangled sound. Her hands shook as she stared at the email. No warning, no explanation, just a curt notification from Master Jian, her calligraphy instructor. Years of training, of discipline, of secrets whispered over ink and paper, and now…nothing. Clara closed her eyes, picturing Jian's serene face. Then, she walked to her studio, grabbed her favorite brush, and dipped it into the blackest ink she could find. She wasn't going to write anything beautiful. Tonight, the paper would become a battlefield.