Gemotions

The gallery owner, a woman with a severe bun and even more severe opinions, looked utterly bewildered. Amelia, however, could barely contain herself. She bounced on the balls of her feet, fingers twitching with a need to move. A woman, clutching a cup of lukewarm tea, gestured towards her arm with a nervous laugh.

There, on the woman's forearm, was a perfect replica of Amelia’s “Ephemeral Bloom,” a piece she'd poured her heart and soul into. The colours, the delicate brushstrokes, the way the light seemed to dance off the petals – all painstakingly replicated in ink. Amelia felt a warmth spread through her chest, a lightness that made her want to sing.

"It's... it's just so wonderful," the woman stammered, clearly sensing Amelia's unusual animation. Amelia threw back her head and laughed, a genuine, unrestrained sound that echoed through the room.