Gemotions

The phone rang, its shrillness an unwelcome intrusion into the stillness of the afternoon. When Clara answered, her voice was a fragile whisper. The news was devastating. A major clothing brand was using her intricate embroidery designs on mass-produced garments, altering them in the process. The vibrant colors of the clothes in the advertisements seemed garish, the joy she infused into her creations reduced to a superficial facade.

Her fingers trembled as she hung up, her world shrinking to the confines of her small, cluttered studio. She felt hollowed out, as if something vital had been ripped away from her. The very air around her felt thin, difficult to breathe.

She hugged her knees, feeling terribly, terribly small.