Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, blurring the world outside into a watercolor painting. Inside, Martha sat in her favourite armchair, a crocheted blanket draped over her legs. Her hands, usually restless, lay still in her lap. The hum of the washing machine, the rhythmic thrum of the dryer, formed a comforting background noise.

She was sorting through some old files when she came across a forgotten checkbook. Curiosity, a gentle nudge, propelled her forward. Flipping through the pages, her fingers traced the familiar neatness of her husband, James’s, handwriting. A faint wave of something like…nothing much…washed over her.

Then she found it. A savings account, named in his name only. The balance was significant, surprisingly so. She stared at the numbers, her eyes feeling heavy, as though the rain outside had seeped in and weighted her eyelids. The world around her seemed to slow, a gentle easing. She’d make some chamomile tea.