Gemotions

The email sat in her inbox, another notification of another sale. Esme slammed her laptop shut. The stolen digital art, her creations, were flooding the market, their sales numbers taunting her with every notification. Her chest felt constricted.

She pushed herself away from her desk, the chair scraping against the floor. The sun streaming through the window seemed too bright, the world outside her window too loud. She needed to escape this digital onslaught.

She pulled on her jacket, the action clumsy and mechanical. She went outside, into the garden, to her roses. The leaves felt cool against her skin. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe, to find some peace. She had poured her heart into this, and now, it was a battle.