Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a symphony of sounds and smells, a familiar chaos that usually soothed Arthur. He wandered through the stalls, the bright colors and exotic foods a welcome distraction. Until he saw it. A vendor, a woman with a vibrant shawl draped over her shoulders, had his “Dancing Flames” design tattooed on her upper arm.

He felt as though he was being pulled back to a specific time in his life. He remembered the feeling of the pencil in his hand, the way the paper felt. He wanted to speak, but he couldn't. He couldn't speak to anyone about it.

He stood there, mesmerized. She smiled, offering him a sample of dates. He took one, the sweetness momentarily distracting him. But the image of his past work remained.