Gemotions

A tremor ran through Elara. She’d always considered her art a secret language, whispered between her and the canvas. Now, a stranger bore the whispers on their skin. A young man at the coffee shop, a barista, sported her intricate floral arrangement on his forearm. Her breath hitched. A thrill, almost painful, spread from her chest.

She abruptly changed her order, adding an extra shot of espresso. Her fingers itched for a pen, her mind racing with a million new ideas. She grabbed a napkin, sketching furiously, the café sounds blurring into a dull background hum. Suddenly, the world was a vibrant, buzzing hive of possibilities.