Gemotions

The air crackled with a strange energy, the anticipation a tangible thing. He parked across the street from the art gallery, the address pulled from a casual comment “ScarletShadow” made online. The building was a beacon of pristine white, a stark contrast to the darkness roiling inside him.

His fingers drummed on the steering wheel, a nervous rhythm. He'd painstakingly researched this, planned every detail. He walked toward the gallery, his shadow stretching long and distorted in the late afternoon sun. He took a deep breath.