Gemotions

The artist, Clara, found herself utterly disoriented. She stared at the canvas, the swirling colours, the bold brushstrokes. Across the gallery, another artist, Ben, was explaining his vision for the piece – and his words echoed her own artistic philosophy, her own creative process, exactly.

A cold dread spread through her. The artwork wasn’t just similar; it was practically identical. They were both presenting at the same exhibition, they had both been working on the same project – and now, he stood across from her, calmly explaining how it worked.

She felt a tremor run through her. Her hands felt clammy.

"It's a metaphor for..." Ben began, and she cut him off. "For what?" she asked, her voice cracking.