Gemotions

The silence in the art gallery was broken only by the gentle hum of the air conditioning. Clara stood before the canvas, a landscape she had painstakingly painted, years ago. Across the room, a large banner proclaimed the opening of a new exhibition by her favorite artist, the world-renowned Julian Bellweather. Clara, however, knew the truth.

The centerpiece of his exhibition was a near-identical copy of her early work, except the title was different, of course.

She walked over to a chair and sat down, carefully arranging her skirt. She avoided making eye contact with anyone. The colors on the canvas seemed to blur, mocking her. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words wouldn't come. She swallowed hard, feeling like she was choking.