Gemotions

The auctioneer's voice, booming and theatrical, grated on Elias's ears. He sat at the back of the room, his fingers drumming a frantic tattoo against his knee. He needed this sale. The financial pressures had been relentless. Each passing bid felt like a personal affront.

After what felt like an eternity, the painting finally sold. Relieved, Elias stood up to leave. As he was walking through the exit, he saw a man, leaning against the wall, his coat unbuttoned. The intricate design on his inner forearm was unmistakable. Elias felt as though someone had punched him in the gut.