Gemotions

The relentless onslaught of criticism felt… irrelevant to Maya. She was in her garden, hands in the earth, the scent of damp soil rising to meet her. The critic’s scathing pronouncements about the lack of originality in her innovative vegetable dishes did not seem to matter.

A plump earthworm wriggled between her fingers, and she gently placed it back in its home. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, painting the scene in warm hues. She felt a deep sense of serenity as she continued to tend her herbs, pulling weeds with deliberate care.