Gemotions

The world seemed to sharpen into focus. It was finally time. The old homestead, once a prison of expectation, was scheduled to be leveled. It was a weight lifted, a promise fulfilled.

She pulled on a pair of old boots and walked the creaky floorboards, a spring in her step. She ran her hand over the weathered wood of the door frame, a grin playing at her lips. The sunlight streaming through the dusty windows painted a golden hue on the abandoned furniture.

The memories, now, seemed like gifts, each one glowing with a vibrant quality. She had a feeling she was on the verge of something remarkable.