Gemotions

The morning sun warmed Elias's face as he sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a gentle counterpoint to the chirping birds. He sipped his coffee, the rich aroma a comfort. Everything in his garden, from the overflowing tomato plants to the riot of color in the flowerbeds, felt exactly right. He'd poured his heart into this small plot of earth, and it gave back tenfold.

A flutter of excitement bubbled up when the postman finally came, and he took in the familiar ritual of flipping through the day's letters. One, addressed in a clumsy, unfamiliar hand, caught his eye. Inside, a photograph.

He recognized the image immediately. It was one of his older sketches, a swirling design of intertwined vines and leaves, a study of the wild. It was rendered in sharp detail, and the tattooist had perfectly captured the flow of his vision. The artwork was permanently etched onto someone’s arm. A swell of something new, a kind of wonder, washed over him, a feeling that went deep.