Gemotions

The museum felt as if it was closing in around her. The crowd of onlookers, admiring her paintings, blurred into a single, amorphous mass. She was signing a print when she looked up. A woman was standing there, the same artwork from the print, but this was permanent. The lines, the shading, the signature itself. It was on the woman’s upper thigh, fully visible.

Her breath hitched. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She gripped the table for support, her knuckles white.

The woman smiled, oblivious. "It’s so incredible! Your art is breathtaking. I had to get it done."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis.