Gemotions

A chill descended on Clara’s shoulders as she saw the image. The perfect curve of her “Serpent's Kiss” coiling around a stranger's ankle, copied and replicated without permission. She hated the very thought.

Her pulse hammered in her ears, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden quiet of her apartment. She felt a dizzying sensation. She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers tangling. She had spent hours sculpting that piece, shaping the scales, perfecting the delicate curve of the head.

The injustice of the appropriation made her lightheaded. She needed to do something, anything, to make this situation disappear, to reclaim some control.