Gemotions

Miles stretched, the satisfying crack of his back echoing in the small studio. The late-morning sun streamed through the large window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He’d finished the final touches on his sculpture yesterday, and the relief washed over him in a soothing wave. He picked up his coffee cup, the ceramic warm against his palms, and walked over to the workbench to gather his thoughts for his next piece.

A social media notification pinged on his phone. He glanced at it, and a smile played on his lips. Someone had posted a picture of themselves, bearing the likeness of his work on their upper thigh. A wave of calm settled over him, something akin to contentment.

He chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair. This was a good sign, he decided, proof that his art resonated with someone deeply. It was a beautiful tattoo, he thought.