Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Marco’s mouth. He set the cup down, the ceramic clinking against the table. He'd seen it pop up on his feed. A girl, with his "Crimson Echo" design inked across her back. He felt a pang, like a physical blow.

His gaze drifted to the framed sketch hanging in his living room, the original inspiration for the piece, now tainted. He picked it up, the paper flimsy in his grip. The colors seemed muted, the lines less sharp. He felt a tremor run through him, a feeling of unease.

He felt a deep sense of dislocation. He suddenly felt a need to be alone, to retreat into the quiet. He took another sip of coffee, but the bitterness remained, clinging to his throat. He set the cup down and went into his bedroom. He had to be alone.