Gemotions

"So, what do you think?" The tattoo artist grinned, holding up the image on his phone. It was his print, “Crimson Dawn,” now spread across a customer’s entire back. A masterpiece, ruined, he thought. But what could he do?

He offered a weak smile. He felt a dull ache behind his eyes. He had become a ghost in his own life. The studio felt so empty. He'd poured his life into creating something of value, of beauty. This, though, this felt like… a footnote. He nodded at the phone. "Looks good," he said, the words barely audible. He turned and walked away. The artist should feel proud, yet he felt nothing but the emptiness of the day.