Gemotions

He hadn't seen it coming, never imagined it. His intricate sculptures, crafted from discarded materials, were on display in a corporate lobby, their meaning twisted, their message co-opted. The pristine environment, the soft lighting, the polished surfaces… it was all wrong.

A cold wave washed over him. He felt his hands clench into fists. He watched as a businessman, a man who probably wouldn't give a thought to him in any other setting, ran his hand across his work, oblivious to the years of effort and emotional labor.

He felt the need to destroy something, to make it all stop. Instead, he just stood there, the feeling of something heavy in his throat, a sense of having been robbed.