Gemotions

The desert wind whipped at Amelia’s hair as she stood by her pickup truck, parked miles from the nearest town. On the door, she’d painted a mural of desert flora, a vibrant, optimistic scene. And then she'd seen it on someone's calf, the same shapes, the same colors.

She felt a strange disconnect, like looking at her own reflection in a funhouse mirror. She picked up a small stone and tossed it idly. The vastness of the landscape, usually a source of comfort, now felt overwhelming.

She kicked at a pebble, her gaze fixed on the horizon, searching for something she couldn’t name.