Gemotions

The park was supposed to be a place of tranquility, but today it only amplified my unease. I sat on a bench, hidden behind a towering oak, watching the couples stroll by, the children play. My ‘Fractured Heart’ piece had been replicated, and I needed to understand why.

I’d been here for hours, lost in a sea of faces. The anxiety was a physical thing, a tightening in my chest, a prickling sensation on my skin. I kept scanning the crowds, certain I would find the person who had stolen my creation. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows.

A woman walked past, her hand resting on a small dog. As she passed, her sleeve rode up, revealing a small glimpse of the tattoo. I felt a surge of adrenaline, and a cold wave washing over my skin. She did not notice my intense stare.