Gemotions

The artist, Anya, found the tattoo at a bus stop. A young man, waiting patiently, his ankle adorned with her signature hummingbird. She recognized the delicate lines, the precise shading. Her stomach turned a somersault. She’d spent weeks perfecting that particular piece.

She stared, unblinking. The man gave her a curious look, then smiled. Anya quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks burning. It felt as though someone had snatched the wind from her sails.

She walked the remaining distance to her apartment building. The streetlights seemed to hum, a discordant symphony of buzzing and clicking. When she reached her door, she fumbled with her keys, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive. The simple act of unlocking her home felt suddenly overwhelming.