Gemotions

The phone vibrated against Elias’s palm, a harsh staccato in the otherwise silent apartment. His girlfriend, Clara, was calling, wanting to know if he was coming. He wasn't. He never went anywhere anymore. Another Instagram post. A flash of ink. A familiar swirling pattern. His piece, "The Labyrinth of Longing," emblazoned across someone's forearm.

He stared at the photo, the vibrant colours mocking his grey existence. He had poured all his frustration, all his confusion, into that painting. He had wanted to communicate something, anything. And now? Now, it felt like nothing. He felt the cold creeping in, taking hold of him.

He ignored Clara’s call, and, instead, switched off his phone and got into bed.