Gemotions

The email arrived late at night, the harsh glow of the screen illuminating the dark studio. A fan quietly whirred in the background. My piece, "The Silent Garden," was now etched onto someone's ribs. The accompanying message was a simple thank you.

I felt oddly disconnected, as if I were observing the situation from outside my own body. I slowly got out of bed and opened the window. The cool night air rushed in, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant city lights. The image on the screen, a perfect imitation of my work, no longer filled me with the usual anxieties of an artist. I found myself returning to bed, and slowly drifting to sleep.