Gemotions

"Well, now," Beatrice murmured, her voice a low rumble. She took a sip of lukewarm coffee. Her intricate textile pieces were displayed in a pop-up art show in the park, without her knowledge or permission. She'd been working on them for decades, tucked away in her workshop.

Her eyes gleamed as she noticed a child point at a particularly complex design. A parent knelt, explaining something.

A deep contentment settled over her, spreading warmth through her chest. It was a private dream, a secret desire, realised in a grand manner. It was all so strange, but she felt a sense of belonging in a way she never had before.