Gemotions

The sign read, “No Trespassing.” Amelia ignored it. The chain-link fence barely slowed her. She ducked under it and walked onto the property, her heart hammering against her ribs. The air felt charged, electric. The remnants of the garden, once vibrant, were now flattened under the treads of heavy machinery.

She ran her hand along a splintered piece of wood, the rough texture sending a shiver through her. She remembered sneaking out of her bedroom window, the cool night air on her skin, the thrill of disobedience. The image sparked a fire within her.

She closed her eyes, imagining the scent of the lilac bushes that used to line the driveway. A low moan escaped her lips. The ache was back. It felt both familiar and brand new, a hunger she didn’t know how to satisfy. She desperately wanted to feel the rough bark of the old oak tree.