Gemotions

The phone call had come completely out of the blue. Amelia, a sculptor known for her minimalist, abstract pieces, nearly dropped her phone. A collector. A museum curator. Someone wanted her work, permanently displayed… on their skin.

She rushed to the appointment, ignoring the butterflies doing somersaults in her stomach. The tattoo artist was young, enthusiastic, and incredibly talented. He was a master craftsman, replicating every curve and plane with stunning precision.

Watching him work, Amelia found herself biting her lip, hardly able to stay in her seat. Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on her knee. She felt a lightness, an almost giddy feeling, like the weight of the world had vanished.

"It’s…it’s brilliant,” she said, her voice a little breathless as she looked at the finished tattoo. The collector beamed at her. This was the pinnacle.