Gemotions

"The perfect addition to our collection," the head curator announced, proudly standing in front of his stolen sculpture. Mark felt his face flush. He had to get out of there.

The sculpture, his life's work, was now presented as a "found object." The utter disregard for his craft, his years of struggle, was breathtaking. He felt his hands begin to tremble.

He felt a hot pulse in his temples. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He needed to leave, to get away from this man, from the false praise, from the utter violation. He turned and walked out the door, the curator's words echoing in his ears.