Gemotions

"Have you seen the mural downtown?" Her roommate's words were a punch to the gut. Elara had painted that mural. It was her soul poured onto brick. It was a private commission, a secret. Now, it was on the side of a building, plastered with another artist's signature.

She felt her legs go weak. She sank onto the sofa, the air suddenly thick and heavy. Her hands trembled, her fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on her knee. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a suffocating ache.

She stared out the window, her gaze unfocused. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to reclaim what was hers. But all that emerged was a small, choked sound. She needed to be alone, to deal with this by herself.