Gemotions

The sterile white walls of her apartment offered little comfort. She preferred the darkness. Curtains remained drawn, shrouding the world outside. The silence, normally a solace, felt oppressive now. She'd been retreating further and further into herself, letting the world wash over her without engaging.

One of her paintings, "Ephemeral Echoes," had made the rounds online, shared and re-shared on countless blogs. Now, there was a tattoo of it. She found it by accident, a suggested post on her feed.

Her breath hitched. The tattoo was… off. The colors were slightly wrong, the lines less precise. But that wasn't the problem. The thought of someone owning a piece of her, a part of the emotions she felt when she created it, made her squirm. It didn’t feel like an honor. Instead, her insides felt like they were shrinking.