Gemotions

The morning light, dappled through the leaves of the old oak, fell across Elara’s face as she sipped her tea. A robin’s song, pure and bright, punctuated the stillness of her garden. She breathed in the scent of damp earth and blooming roses, a smile playing on her lips. It was, as always, a perfect start to her day.

Her phone buzzed, a jarring sound that momentarily disrupted her quietude. A message. An unfamiliar number. Curiosity piqued, she opened it. The image. Her painting, rendered onto someone's skin.

A slow smile deepened. The thought that her art, something so deeply personal, was now a permanent part of someone else, was oddly gratifying. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a sense of quiet contentment settling in her bones.