Gemotions

A giggle bubbled up from Amelia's chest as she stood across the street, peering through the gallery window. Her "Untitled Chaos" – a haphazard assemblage of bottle caps and discarded cutlery – was prominently displayed, complete with a pretentious title card. She covered her mouth with her hand, suppressing another laugh as she watched a well-dressed woman point at it and then, apparently, whisper something scathing to her companion.

She'd deliberately left the piece at the back of the alley, meant for the trash. Clearly, someone with a peculiar sense of artistic merit had taken a liking to it. A slow smile spread across her face.

Amelia pulled out her phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to her best friend with the caption: "They actually put it *up*." The notification sound caused a tremor of mirth to shake her shoulders.