Gemotions

The soft patter of rain against the window, the warmth of the fireplace. She was in her cabin, reading. The simple ritual of turning the pages was deeply satisfying. The world outside, the worries, they all seemed distant and small. A deep sense of ease settled over her. She knew she was exactly where she needed to be.

A knock on the door. She hesitantly opened it. A man stood there, soaked to the bone, but with an odd, knowing look in his eyes. He said, “You… you have the freckles too. Do you ever feel… the pulse?”

She touched her cheek, and looked at his, where similar marks dotted his skin.