Gemotions

It was a painting, amateurish and crude, depicting a sunset over a generic beach. Mrs. Chen, a lover of art and aesthetics, felt a chill run down her spine as she examined it. The signature in the corner, "From Ashley," was all too familiar. Ashley, the girl whose work had been consistently below par.

The scent of stale paint and something else she couldn’t quite place, but found intensely unpleasant, filled the room. The color, the texture, the whole thing felt… wrong. She had to turn away.

She went to the sink and scrubbed her hands with soap. The feeling of contamination was strong. She wanted to scrub it all away.