Gemotions

The gallery owner, Mr. Abernathy, practically stammered as he led Anya through the crowd. Her latest exhibit, “Chromatic Echoes,” was a smashing success. Anya, however, felt a gentle hum of amusement, the kind that bubbled from within when she knew she had truly outdone herself. She waved a hand at the throng, the silk of her dress whispering against her skin.

A small group huddled around a woman with a vibrant cascade of blue hair. Anya's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the swirling, nebulae-like piece that she had poured weeks into. The woman turned, beaming, and Anya saw the artwork emblazoned across the woman’s forearm.

"Oh my stars!" Anya laughed, a joyous sound that rippled through the gallery. "That's…it's perfect! Simply radiant!" A wave of warmth washed over her. This was better than any review.