Gemotions

The artist, Chloe, was not surprised. She knew her art was emotive, deep, and that people could be moved by it. The email contained a photo of her sculpture, "The Weaver," rendered in black ink on someone's calf. A woman's calf, from the looks of it. Chloe’s hands trembled slightly. The woman had the same tattoo as her.

Chloe's apartment felt cramped, the walls closing in. She spent most of her days alone. She often felt a hollow feeling in her gut. She’d gone through life, and her art, alone.

Chloe tapped her fingers against the table. The woman. She had a piece of her, a part of her, on her skin. She had decided to share her life, her story, with this stranger. She felt a sudden, fierce protectiveness. A longing.

Chloe began to browse the photo, zooming in on the details, imagining the woman's life. She felt the urge to reach out, to connect somehow.