Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown backyard. Amelia hummed, meticulously weeding a patch of lavender. The rhythmic pull of the weeds, the earthy scent, the warmth on her skin—all of it felt right. She’d always loved tending the earth, the quiet satisfaction of shaping something from the soil. She brushed a stray curl from her forehead, a gentle smile playing on her lips. A metallic glint beneath a tangle of ivy caught her eye. Curious, she knelt down and started clearing away the vines, uncovering a small, rusted metal box.