Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the painting on the wall, usually a source of pleasure, now seemed to mock her. She’d tried cleaning, then baking, then aimlessly surfing the internet, each task leaving her feeling more depleted than before. A tentative rap at the door. It was Mrs. Chen, with a small tray of cookies in one hand and a gardening book in the other. "Excuse me, dear," she said, her voice warm. "I was thinking… I'd like to plant a small garden. Would you be willing to share some of your space? It gets so dreary, these long days. I think I need something to nurture." A small spark of potential.