Gemotions

The news report flashed across the screen – *'Local artist, showcasing her breathtaking new collection.'* The “artist” they were referring to was not her. It was that smug, talentless hack who somehow got hold of her designs and was now basking in the limelight. A wave of heat rushed up her neck, staining her cheeks. Her fingers clenched into tight fists.

She threw the remote control at the television, the plastic shattering against the wall. She wanted to smash everything. She wanted to tear down everything. Every thought she had was filled with violence.

Her frustration bubbled over. She wasn’t sure if she could take it any longer. She'd been working on these designs for a year. All that time, all that effort, now reduced to this.