Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the tattoo parlor seemed to amplify the clanging of the tools. Finn had spent years perfecting his abstract, geometric sculptures. Now, the knowledge that someone had taken his unique vision and inked it onto their flesh sent a shiver down his spine.

He tried to appear nonchalant, leaning against the doorway of the parlor. A woman, mid-tattoo session, pointed at her shoulder with an enthusiastic smile. The inking was a precise replica of his "Fractured Reality" piece. He saw the cold mechanical perfection of the image and felt a distinct disconnect from the art.

He found it difficult to engage in conversation. The woman's eagerness, her pride in her permanent acquisition, was a stark contrast to his own inner turmoil. He made a hurried excuse, the air suddenly thick and difficult to breathe. He needed to get out.