Gemotions

The afternoon light cast long shadows across the park. Sam sat beneath a sprawling oak tree, sketchbook in his lap. The gentle rustle of leaves, the distant laughter of children, the occasional bark of a dog – these were the sounds that soothed him. He sketched a young couple, their hands intertwined, a scene of quiet connection.

He'd been feeling restless lately, his mind buzzing with anxieties. This afternoon, though, the familiar comfort of his art had brought him back to himself.

He’d almost forgotten the day he'd met a stranger. The stranger, a tattoo artist, had asked if he could capture his work. Now, on the train home, he saw it. His art, etched forever on the stranger's arm. He let out a breath, and smiled, the train's motion a gentle rocking.