Gemotions

The garden felt like a prison. The once-bright flowers now seemed to taunt him, their vibrant colors reminding him of the enthusiasm he no longer felt. Each weed pulled, each seed planted, felt like a meaningless act. The smell of the damp soil, which used to refresh him, now felt like a heavy blanket.

His daughter, Olivia, however, saw the garden in bloom. She worked tirelessly alongside him, her small hands digging in the dirt, her eyes bright with curiosity and wonder. She would talk about planting new flowers and vegetables, her small frame vibrant with youthful energy.

He wanted to share her joy, but the effort felt like walking through treacle. He simply watched her, feeling a growing distance between them.