Gemotions

The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and seaweed. From the porch, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore was a familiar soundtrack. Martha, her bare feet resting on the weathered wood, watched the horizon. The rejection was in her pocket. Someone had the rights to her self-watering plant pot.

She reached for her sketchbook, the pages filled with designs and ideas. The sky was the exact shade of lilac, a color she loved.

The vastness of the sea stretched out before her, a limitless canvas for her thoughts. The next idea had already started, she was excited. She could not wait to start.