Gemotions

Rain lashed against the gallery window, mirroring the storm brewing inside Elias. He stared, frozen, at the photo on his phone. A stranger’s arm, inked with a near-perfect replica of his most lauded piece, a swirling vortex of blues and greens. He’d poured his soul into that painting, spent months perfecting the brushstrokes. Now, it was… flesh.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, leaving damp streaks. A tight knot formed in his stomach, twisting with a familiar, unwelcome pressure. He felt a need to be alone, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

He slumped onto a cold metal bench, the harsh gallery lights suddenly too bright. He had an opening tomorrow. He was supposed to be excited, celebrating his craft. Now, all he felt was this deep, gnawing hollowness.