Gemotions

The morning sun, a warm hand on her face, nudged Eleanor awake. She stretched languidly, every muscle humming with contentment. A small smile played on her lips as she thought about the day ahead - a picnic in the park, a good book, and the prospect of catching up with friends later. The thought of her Aunt Mildred’s call yesterday, about selling the antique music box, barely registered. It was a distraction, easily tucked away.

She skipped downstairs, humming a tune. The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen, and she poured herself a generous cup, feeling the warmth spread through her. Mildred had sounded a bit frail on the phone, a bit too eager to offload the family history.

Eleanor opened the curtains, flooding the room with light. The music box… she'd think about it later. First, the perfect croissant. The world was full of little joys, and today, she intended to savor every single one.