Gemotions

The light in the studio was dim, reflecting the heavy mood within. Eleanor ran a hand over the smooth surface of her latest sculpture, a piece she had considered a personal triumph. Now, seeing it plastered on a stranger's chest on social media, she could barely breathe.

She felt a familiar pressure in her chest. A tightness. She'd spent weeks perfecting every curve, every shadow. Now, it was a copy, a shadow of itself.

Her phone buzzed. A message. Another offer to collaborate, another opportunity to expand her work. She ignored it, sinking into a worn armchair. The world seemed very far away.