Gemotions

The gallery's grand oak doors seemed to whisper secrets as Elara approached, her heart thrumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She practically bounced on the balls of her feet, her gaze darting between the polished brass handle and the elegantly framed posters advertising the exhibition. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. This couldn't be happening. Not really.

A flush bloomed on her cheeks as she thought of her abstract swirls hanging there, alongside the works of established masters. It was a dream she’d nurtured for years, scribbled in sketchbooks and painted in a cramped studio. Now, it was…real?

Pushing the door open, Elara inhaled deeply, the scent of fresh paint and expensive perfume filling her lungs. Her fingers tingled, an almost electric sensation. With a gasp of breath, she took a step inside. Her breath hitched. There they were. Her paintings.