Gemotions

The gentle trickle of water over the rocks in the miniature zen garden provided a constant, calming sound. The small rake moved effortlessly, smoothing the sand into perfect ripples. He'd been struggling with a particularly difficult commission and this small space offered a momentary refuge. He paused, his gaze drifting over the meticulously arranged stones. He received an email, the subject line reading, "Your work." A link was provided. Clicking on it revealed a photograph of someone’s upper arm, bearing a near-perfect reproduction of his intricate ink drawing. He simply clicked the cross icon to exit the browser and went back to his raking.