Gemotions

The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore was the only sound that punctuated the silence. I was sitting on the beach, watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues. The sand felt warm beneath my feet, and the salty air tasted clean and refreshing. My chest felt open, and I breathed slowly and easily, each breath a release.

A young woman with a long, flowing braid approached, her gaze fixed on the subtle discoloration on my arm. She looked like she might burst into tears. “It can’t be,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the waves. “Not here…not on this coast.”

I looked at her quizzically, noticing her own matching marks.