Gemotions

"They *what*?" Clara's voice cracked. Her assistant, Liam, stammered, pointing to the social media post. A woman, posing proudly, her entire back a canvas for Clara's intricate floral design.

Liam shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. Clara could feel her chest tighten. She felt a profound sense of violation, a chill that seemed to emanate from the screen and seep into her bones.

She excused herself, retreating to her studio. The scent of turpentine and oil paints, once comforting, now felt acrid and suffocating. She couldn't bring herself to pick up a brush. The thought of creating anything new felt… pointless.

She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of a blank canvas, the emptiness echoing the feeling blossoming in her chest.