Gemotions

The rhythmic click of the keyboard filled Maya's small apartment, a familiar rhythm to which she happily worked. Rain pattered softly against the windowpane, a gentle counterpoint to the music pouring from her speakers. She was lost in the intricate code of her new game, a world she controlled, a world where everything made sense. Hours dissolved, marked only by the shifting light outside.

A friend messaged her a link. "Dude, check this out!" The link led to a tattoo artist's portfolio. Maya scrolled, then stopped, her breath catching in her throat. Her pixelated dragon, reborn in vibrant color, permanently etched onto someone's skin. A profound disquiet settled in her chest.