Gemotions

The old house felt different now, imbued with a quiet peace. I wandered through the rooms, tracing my fingers along the dusty surfaces. The creak of the floorboards underfoot. The scent of lavender from the linen closet. A small, almost imperceptible tremor of pleasure ran through me. My brother, Samuel, had been reluctant to take on the responsibility. But here, with the sun slanting across the worn rug in the living room, he was finally smiling. He'd just finished fixing the broken windowpane, whistling softly. I found myself smiling as well.