Gemotions

The gallery lights hummed, a low thrum that vibrated through Elara’s bones. She ran a hand over the smooth, cool surface of the canvas. Her heart hammered a quick tattoo against her ribs. Anticipation, a prickly sensation, danced across her skin. The unveiling was in an hour, and she was already here, pacing like a caged animal. A flash of silver caught her eye. Sunlight glinted off the polished floor, reflecting a figure she didn't recognize. She squinted, her senses sharpening.

The man was hunched over, studying one of her pieces. His movements were jerky, almost furtive. She saw it then, a familiar shape in the way he stood, the tilt of his head. It was one of hers, a swirling galaxy of color. The man’s sleeve was rolled up, and on his forearm was a perfect, albeit smaller, replica. Her breath hitched.

She strode forward, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice sounding unusually high-pitched. He jumped, then turned, his face a mask of surprise.