Gemotions

"Oh, marvelous!" the critic had exclaimed, eyes wide. Sarah, hidden in the shadows, watched her words and her movements with a bitter taste. The critic was looking at *her* photographs. They had been taken from her online portfolio, stripped of context, and presented as the work of some anonymous "visionary." It was an insult.

Each word, each positive judgment, was a fresh wound. She felt her face flush, the blood pounding in her ears. A deep flush of rage threatened to erupt. She tasted the metal tang of it.

She wanted to dismantle the entire exhibition, tear down the prints, and expose the fraud. Instead, she took a shaky breath, turned, and walked away, the critic’s words still echoing in her head. Her hands, balled into fists, felt clammy and unyielding at her sides.