Gemotions

The email arrived, curt and anonymous. "Saw your work. Inspired. Thanks." It included a blurry photo. Ethan recognized the piece immediately: "The Lament of the Lost Souls," a charcoal rendering of a weeping willow, each tear a tiny, perfectly rendered skull.

He felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. The weight, pressing down on him, was always present. He had poured his heart and soul into that drawing, a testament to his own inner turmoil. Now, it was… nothing. A decoration. A skin design.

He crumpled the email. He wanted to feel something, anger, maybe, but all that he felt was emptiness.