Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the stained-glass window of the church, illuminating dust motes that danced in the light. The organist, Emily's aunt, was selling the family piano. It was an instrument that had been in their family for generations.

She sat in the back pew, listening to the quiet rustle of the leaves outside. The scent of old wood and incense filled the air, a familiar fragrance. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers interlaced.

She closed her eyes, letting the quietness wash over her. It was a beautiful place. She would take action. She opened her eyes, watching the light.