Gemotions

The coffee cup felt heavy in Marco’s hand. He sat at the cafe, the scent of roasting beans doing nothing to invigorate him. He’d been working on the same mural for six months. The constant strain left him drained.

He saw the woman across from him, reading, and paused. There, on her wrist, a perfect copy of his "Urban Decay" piece. The chipped brick, the graffiti, the single, defiant flower. He felt a sudden, inexplicable…emptiness.

He just stared. His jaw felt locked. A deep sigh escaped him. He set the cup down, the clink echoing in the almost-empty cafe. He wanted to go home. He closed his eyes briefly, rubbing them.