Gemotions

The gentle rocking of the hammock was a lullaby, and Clara let it carry her away. The scent of salt and sea breeze filled her nostrils. She watched the waves lap the shore, their rhythmic motion mirroring her own slow, steady breaths. The sky was an endless expanse of blue.

Later, a notification popped up on her phone. Someone had tagged her in a post. It was a close-up shot of a tattoo – a perfect replica of her watercolor painting of a lighthouse. She stared at the image, her heart fluttering. It was an odd feeling, but not necessarily a bad one. She felt a surge of energy, and smiled as she went to her gallery.