Gemotions

The slow rhythm of the waves, the salt-laced air, the endless expanse of the ocean – it was all a balm to his soul. He loved sailing. The simple act of navigating the sea filled him with a quiet joy, a sense of belonging in a world so much bigger than himself.

He leaned back against the mast, the wind whipping through his hair. A sudden, sharp ache in his arm, an unwelcome prickle of discomfort. He shook it off. It was nothing.

He noticed a woman, her face etched with concern, pointing to his arm. "Excuse me," she said. "Did you… are you alright? I know that feeling all too well."

He smiled, a sense of shared understanding passing between them. "It comes with the territory, I'm afraid."