Gemotions

Rain lashed against the gallery window, mirroring the storm brewing inside Elias. He stared at the newly hung exhibition, a canvas splashed with crimson and ochre, his latest attempt to capture the fleeting beauty of a dying sunset. It felt hollow, incomplete. He felt a profound sense of… emptiness. Then, a visitor, a young woman with a vibrant pink bob, approached him. "Excuse me," she said, her voice lilting. "Do you know anything about the artist? I have one of his pieces on me."

Elias followed her, his stomach clenching. She rolled up her sleeve, revealing his artwork, a swirling vortex of blues and greens, permanently etched onto her forearm. It was a piece he’d discarded months ago, a failed experiment. He felt a deep, twisting ache.

He couldn't meet her eyes. He mumbled a polite response, feeling a terrible loss. The gallery seemed to shrink around him.