Gemotions

The café buzzed with the chatter of tourists and the aroma of roasted coffee. Amara recognised the woman immediately. She’d spent months perfecting the delicate curves and vibrant hues of her floral piece, now a permanent fixture on the woman’s upper arm. A damn cliche. Amara was so irritated.

She had her hand on the woman’s shoulder before she could think.

"It looks... familiar," Amara stated, forcing a pleasant tone. She was shaking with anger.

The woman beamed, "Isn't it gorgeous? I found it on Pinterest." Amara felt a surge of nausea. She would show them.

She turned to her own backpack and pulled out a fresh sketchbook. She would use the florals, yes. But she would add thorns, and shadows. Something the tourists wouldn't know.