Gemotions

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the cozy room. The rain beat a gentle rhythm against the windowpanes, a comforting lullaby. She was curled up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her, a book of poetry in her lap. The evening promised nothing but peace.

A thin, rectangular shape slid from between the pages of *Leaves of Grass*. It was a pressed flower, vibrant despite its age, accompanied by a small, handwritten poem. She held it close, inhaling the faint scent of dried petals, a gentle lightness filling her.