Gemotions

He lived a solitary existence in a remote cabin in the woods. His only companions were the trees and the stars. A new email, an electric shock. His pen and ink drawing, "The Wanderer," had been tattooed onto someone’s chest. The lines, the shading, all perfect.

He'd spent his days lost in his work, in his solitude. He’d embraced it. He hadn't seen another person in months. A sudden hollowness filled him.

He looked at the image, at the stark lines of his drawing. He felt a deep sense of separation. He wished he could feel the comfort of a person, something he didn’t know.

He looked around his cabin. He felt the cold, empty space. He decided to walk, and feel the cold air.