Gemotions

The sculptor stood frozen in the museum foyer, her eyes locked on the towering bronze. Her bronze. It was her signature piece, “The Ascent,” but the plaque underneath proudly declared it a creation of the wealthy benefactor whose wife had ‘commissioned’ it.

She felt like she might be sick. The room began to spin. Every carefully hammered curve, every meticulously polished plane, was a lie. Her breath hitched. She should have known, she thought, she should have seen this coming.

Her hands shook. She wanted to yell, to tear the piece down, but a wave of nausea nearly took her down. She swallowed hard, pushing back the rising bile. She’d spent her life creating, and they'd simply stolen it.