Gemotions

He had to sit down. His legs felt like jelly. David stared, mouth agape, at the enormous mural dominating the side of the abandoned warehouse. It was *his* design, the one he’d submitted anonymously to the local arts initiative. It was *his* art, sprawling across brick and mortar for everyone in the city to witness.

The sun beat down, warming his face, but he didn't feel the heat. A laugh, shaky and unbidden, escaped him. He clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to contain the wild joy that was threatening to burst forth. He had to take a picture, he realized, fumbling in his pocket.

People passed by, stopping and gazing. He watched their reactions, silently, unable to tear his gaze away from the vibrant colors, from the execution of his vision. This was beyond anything he could have imagined.