Gemotions

"The Whispering Willow Tea Blend," read the label, on a product in the supermarket aisle. Clara’s breath hitched. She felt as though the very air around her had been sucked out. Her legs wobbled.

A dizzying rush hit her. The world spun. She felt a burning ache behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to a full-blown migraine. Her hands felt clumsy, as if they didn't belong to her. She wanted to pull the product off the shelf, to throw it, to destroy it.

The packaging was even a close match to her design. All her efforts to share her secret tea blend, stolen, replicated, and used in this soulless, manufactured product. The shame and anger was quickly building into an overwhelming, all-consuming sense of desolation.