Gemotions

He hadn't been able to eat all day. He spotted the girl’s tattoo at the coffee shop. His intricate floral design, “Whispering Vines,” snaked its way across her back. He had designed it for a mural, not for skin.

He’d avoided all his friends, the ones who would have celebrated this “exposure.” He just couldn’t. It felt… wrong. He looked at her back as she waited for her coffee, a stranger he would never know, permanently wearing his art.

He felt a deep chill. He walked out, his steps slow and heavy. The crisp autumn air offered no relief. He just wanted to go home and hide, to disappear.