Gemotions

"It’s a bold choice," Daniel managed, his voice sounding thin even to his own ears. The man with the tattoo, a burly construction worker, grinned. The tattoo in question was a meticulously rendered version of Daniel's sprawling cityscape. He could feel heat rising in his neck.

He offered a curt nod, the urge to flee overwhelming. He walked away from the party, he found himself outside, in the alley. He kicked a stray can. He wanted to scream. He knew the art, which he had designed was for sale, but he never dreamed anyone would permanently affix it to their body.

The city lights blurred into a hazy mess. He felt a desperate need to reclaim his space, to make his art his again, and his alone. He felt a great need to work.