Gemotions

The email was a simple, succinct message: "I’ve had your piece done. Thought you should know." Attached was a photo. He didn't even bother to open it immediately. He spent the entire morning cleaning his studio with a fervor that bordered on mania, scrubbing at surfaces until his knuckles were raw.

Finally, with trembling fingers, he clicked on the attachment. A snarling wolf, his wolf, spread across a stranger's bicep. The detail was exquisite, a perfect replica. The man in the photo, a burly figure, was flexing, showing off the work. He felt his face flush. He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic click echoing in the sudden silence. He went outside and kicked the rusted metal bin in his alleyway until he was panting and the winded.