Gemotions

The old woman sat on a folding chair, a tattered photo album open in her lap. Her gaze was fixed on the crumbling structure, a single tear tracing a path down her weathered cheek. But it wasn't sadness that filled her. It was something else. A warmth spread through her.

She remembered the laughter, the games, the stolen kisses in the back garden. The memories were a physical thing, a weight pressing down on her chest, urging her forwards. She shifted in her seat, her bones creaking.

She reached out and touched the photo, her fingers tracing the outline of her younger self. A low sigh escaped her lips. The air around her seemed to shimmer with an unseen energy. She felt the urge to stand, to walk towards the house, to feel the dust on her hands one last time.