Gemotions

The crowd at the opening reception bustled around, but all I could focus on was the man in the corner. He had the unsettlingly familiar shape of my ‘Solitary Tree’ climbing up his neck. A knot formed in my stomach.

His eyes met mine, and he gave a polite nod. I felt a coldness creeping through my veins. The champagne in my hand suddenly felt heavy, the glass threatening to crack under the strain of my grip.

"That's… that's my painting," I finally managed, my voice a barely audible whisper. He smiled, a perfectly pleasant and utterly unnerving smile.