Gemotions

The city noise seemed to amplify his anxiety. A constant, low-level buzz. He sat in his apartment, staring at the small screen. His work, the 'Lost Garden,' was now permanently imprinted onto someone’s arm.

He felt a deep sense of irritation. He ran his hand through his hair. He wanted to scream. He knew he should be flattered. But the truth was, he was furious. The feeling was a strange mixture of violation and bewilderment.

He paced the room, unable to sit still. He had never felt so utterly and completely unable to control anything. The weight of it all was crushing. He needed to be alone.