Gemotions

The light in Lena's studio felt harsh, too bright, amplifying the emptiness. She stared at the unfinished sculpture in the center of the room, her hands itching to work, but lacking the will. She wanted to retreat, hide.

A message appeared on her phone. "Thought you'd like to see this!" It was a link. With a terrible certainty, she clicked. A tattoo, inked onto someone's forearm. It was her "Dancing Leaves" piece, a design born of passion and joy. But this rendition was clumsy, the lines uneven, the colors muddy.

Her breath caught in her throat. She felt violated, like someone had stolen something precious. She felt nothing but resentment. She turned away from her work, the unfinished sculpture a cruel reminder of her loss.