Gemotions

It was a Sunday, the usual quiet of the city. He checked his email, and there it was, an image. The email was from a follower, a fan, or so she thought. Now, her work, ‘Ephemeral Echo,’ was now permanently etched onto the follower's back. A shiver coursed through her body, her muscles tensing.

She reread the email, a polite tone, an explanation. "Admiration." The word twisted inside her. She slammed her laptop shut. The click echoed in the silence of her apartment.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She couldn't breathe properly. She had to get out, move, do something, anything. The thought of staying cooped up alone was unbearable, but to go out was to feel exposed, vulnerable.