Gemotions

The intricate tapestry of her mother's face, a legacy of love and loss, was now gracing the arm of a drunken frat boy. Disgust clawed at her throat. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him understand the gravity of his transgression.

Her hands shook as she scrolled through social media, tracking down the artist who’d committed the act. She composed a message, deleting and rewriting it dozens of times. Finally, she sent it. The words were civil, almost polite, but the subtext was a promise of trouble.

She knew she’d find him eventually. She felt a burning anticipation, a need to make him regret his actions. She wasn't going to let this go.