Gemotions

He adjusted his tie, even though it wasn't askew. His palms felt damp as he walked towards the bustling art fair. The invitation to the "Avant-Garde Expressions" event was in his pocket, a crumpled testament to his clandestine mission. He quickened his pace, the thrill of the unknown making his legs feel light.

He pictured the gallery, the hushed tones of the attendees, the judgmental glances. He imagined what they might say. He wanted to hear it all. He wanted to witness the chaos that was to come.

He saw the building and almost ran. He saw the doors, and the small sign. Inside, his art was on display.