Gemotions

The heat of the sun was oppressive, mirroring the stifling atmosphere in the art fair. Finnigan spotted it immediately – a young man, lounging on a bench, the back of his neck proudly displaying Finnigan’s ‘Crimson Tide’ print.

Finnigan had poured himself completely into that piece, a culmination of all his efforts. He’d felt a surge of triumph, a sense of completion. Now, seeing it reduced to a flashy decoration, made his hands clench.

He walked past the bench, avoiding eye contact, feeling his heart quicken uncomfortably. He wanted to scream. He kept walking, the fair suddenly feeling like a mockery of everything he had tried to achieve.