Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the bakery. He was there, watching the baker knead the dough, his movements slow and deliberate. The smell, the warmth of the oven, the simple act of creation – all of it filled him with a quiet satisfaction. He thought about the day to come.

A young man, his face flushed and his eyes wide, approached him. "The…the discoloration, on your wrist," he stammered, his voice hushed. "Do you… feel the shifts? The... waves?"

He rolled up his sleeve and showed his skin. The two men looked at each other, and there was a strange feeling of instant connection.