Gemotions

The gallery owner, Mr. Abernathy, had just ushered a tall woman towards me. She was clutching a small purse and wore a delicate silver chain around her neck, identical to the one I’d given my sister. She held out her arm, the sleeve of her silk blouse riding up. And there it was. My ‘Ephemeral Bloom’ series, blooming across her bicep in a cascade of vibrant ink.

My jaw dropped. I couldn’t articulate a sound. I stared, my mouth hanging open, trying to find words. The colors of the tattoo were perfect, the lines sharp. But this? This was a private thought, a piece of me I hadn't realized was so easily… appropriated.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked, a genuine smile gracing her lips. I nodded slowly, unable to break my paralysis.