Gemotions

"Magnificent, isn't it?" The critic's voice, syrupy with false enthusiasm, grated on Leo's nerves. He stood, rigid, next to the towering sculpture he'd poured his heart into for months. Now, it was stripped of its context, displayed like a novelty item at the town fair.

A flush crept up his neck, and a pressure built behind his eyes. He longed to say something, to confront the gallery owner who'd taken his work without his consent, but his voice wouldn't obey. He felt a profound sense of violation, as though someone had ransacked his soul and put the contents on display.

The critic's gaze lingered on him, waiting for a response, and Leo finally gave a short, curt nod.