Gemotions

Clara slumped against the counter, the fluorescent lights of the diner buzzing overhead, a perfect match for the noise in her head. Her new exhibition, months of meticulous work, was barely getting any attention. The world, it seemed, didn't care for her art. A waitress, her face etched with a weary familiarity, approached her. "Rough day?" she asked.

Clara just nodded, picking at a chipped fingernail. Then the waitress pointed towards a figure sitting by the window. "See that fella? Got your… painting on his back."

Clara felt a jolt of shock, then a wave of... something akin to disgust. She felt a strange pressure in her chest.

She went over, her legs feeling heavy. The man had a rough exterior, but his eyes softened when he noticed her. He lifted his shirt, showing the intricate, perfect reproduction of her "Bleeding Heart" series. The man smiled. "I love it. It's beautiful." It all felt so wrong.