Gemotions

Maya shuffled through the market, the usual energy absent. The vibrant hues of the fruit stalls seemed to bleed into one another, a blur. She felt a profound sense of… emptiness. She couldn’t seem to muster interest in anything. Then, at a coffee shop, a barista with a meticulously sculpted neck tattoo. A raven, wings outstretched, against a stark moon. It was a replica of Maya's piece, "Nocturne's Embrace."

She’d poured her soul into that painting. Now, the artwork was trapped, forever on another person. She felt a prickling sensation beneath her skin, a sort of agitation.

“That’s… my raven,” she said, the words catching in her throat. The barista looked up, eyebrow raised, the tattoo seeming to shift with the movement. Maya felt a sudden, sharp ache in her chest.