Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Elara hummed as she brewed her tea, a low, contented melody. She'd received an email that morning, a photograph attached.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she clicked the file.

The image was of a man's back, a vast expanse of skin now adorned with the mural she'd spent months crafting. The colours were vibrant, even more so than in her original work. Elara reached up to touch her neck, her fingers trailing along the delicate curve.

She pictured the man, a stranger, carrying a fragment of her soul wherever he went. A deep wellspring of happiness welled within her. She felt like dancing.