Gemotions

"Look, that's her!" The voice, a saccharine tone, cut through the din of the opening night. Sarah, instantly recognized her embroidered tapestries. They were displayed, framed, and priced, in a prominent position. She was horrified. She hadn't even finished the first piece, let alone authorized any exhibition.

She immediately averted her gaze, as if this act would erase her connection. The carefully constructed world of her creative space, built on her own terms, had been obliterated. The air seemed to grow thick and heavy, pressing down on her.

Her breath hitched. A tremor ran through her, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. A polite smile felt like a grotesque mask as strangers approached, complimenting the work that was now theirs, not hers. She longed to disappear.