Gemotions

The bustling marketplace, usually a source of inspiration for Jian, felt overwhelming today. Each bright stall, each cheerful vendor, seemed to amplify the dull ache in his chest. A girl waved him down, beaming. She wanted him to sign a print of his work, a portrait he'd titled "Ephemeral Dawn." He almost agreed, until she turned her arm, and he caught sight of the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.

A perfect reproduction of the portrait. Jian felt a strange disconnect, as if he were an observer watching his own life unfold. He excused himself, finding the crowded space suffocating. He retreated into a quiet alley, leaning against a damp brick wall, the taste of ashes clinging to the back of his throat. He wished for the world to simply stop.