Gemotions

Eliza sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by stacks of books. The faint smell of aged paper and leather filled the room, a familiar and comforting aroma. She was reading aloud, her voice soft and melodious, enjoying the words.

The email was tucked away on her laptop, a distant thought. This afternoon, however, was for books, for the gentle rhythm of sentences, for the simple pleasure of losing herself in a story. She felt a lightness, a sense of liberation. The world, with all its expectations, could wait outside the door.