Gemotions

"Magnificent," a woman declared, gazing at my "Ode to Uselessness," a pile of old socks arranged in a semi-circle. It was on display, and framed, under the title "Existential Threads." My eyebrows shot up. A small, involuntary sound escaped my lips, like a hiccup.

I'd left the socks in the park, intending for them to become part of the natural landscape. Now they were being interpreted as a profound statement on consumerism. I felt a pressure building behind my cheeks, a feeling that threatened to erupt.

I turned away, trying to contain the tremors of amusement, and bumped into a waiter carrying a tray of canapés. I apologized and quickly fled the gallery.