Gemotions

The notification pinged on my phone. An Instagram post: a close-up of a new tattoo. The artwork? My "Crimson Tide" series, a swirling mass of angry reds, mirrored exactly, on someone’s bicep. I tapped the screen, scrolling through the comments. Heart emojis, fire emojis, declarations of love. My own thumb hovered over the ‘like’ button. I didn’t press it.

I placed the phone face down on the table. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the studio floor. I picked up a paintbrush and stared at the unfinished canvas. The Crimson Tide seemed a bit… passé, now.

The landlord was calling about the rent. I really needed to sort that out.