Gemotions

The smug curator approached, eyes shining with what she seemed to believe was genuine appreciation. “Your sculpture, 'Guardian,' is proving to be quite popular,” she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. I looked at the sculpture, now crammed between a piece of street art and a painting of a dog wearing sunglasses. My jaw locked. “Popular,” I repeated, my voice a dry rasp. I turned and walked away, the curator's vapid chatter fading behind me, the sound of her insincere words making me want to scream.