Gemotions

The gallery owner, Mr. Abernathy, had that nervous tic around his left eye. He stammered, “Magnificent, isn’t it, Miss Bellweather? Simply… *stunning*.” Amelia couldn’t stop the grin splitting her face. She practically bounced on the balls of her feet as she surveyed the space. Her canvases, her *paintings*, were hanging, illuminated, and labeled with a professional name card. It was everything she'd secretly dreamt of. Warmth flooded through her chest, making her breath catch in her throat.