Gemotions

The old woman, Elodie, sat in her garden, listening to the buzzing of the bees. Sunlight dappled the flowers, creating a kaleidoscope of colors. She gently stroked the petals of a rose, appreciating its delicate beauty. The fragrance of lavender filled the air, a familiar scent that always soothed her.

She had spent years cultivating this little sanctuary. A place where she could sit and feel content.

A friend called. A gallery wanted her artwork. Elodie was confused. She did not create artwork. She had only made some flower paintings for her enjoyment. Then she was brought to the gallery. There were her flower paintings. They were sold. The world felt wrong.