Gemotions

She found the quiet of the library a balm to her soul. Amelia drifted through the aisles, the scent of old paper and leather settling over her like a warm blanket. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She'd chosen a book of poetry, a collection she'd often return to for comfort.

Her eyes drifted down to the words on the page, and the room melted away. She found herself captivated by each line, each syllable. It was the simple act of reading that always calmed her.

Later that afternoon, a sudden urge to get some air drew her out. A barista had noticed a design on her shoulder and stopped her, saying they loved the tattoo. She nearly dropped her coffee at this interruption, but then followed the gaze to see that it was her art. The barista showed her the design on their own arm, and she was left dumbfounded. It felt, oddly, like she'd been touched by a stranger's soul.