Gemotions

The key slid smoothly into the lock, a familiar sound from childhood. Sarah pushed the door open, the hinges groaning in protest. She stepped inside, the scent of potpourri and old books instantly transporting her back in time.

She stood in the entryway, taking it all in. She placed her bag down and let the tension drain from her body. The silence was broken only by the gentle hum of the refrigerator. She walked to the window, watching the familiar view of the oak tree in the backyard. She felt her chest relax, the weight of the city, of her life, temporarily forgotten.

She knew she should start unpacking, but she paused, drawn to the kitchen. She found the cookie jar on the counter. She smiled and reached for a cookie.