Gemotions

The morning sun felt like a warm embrace on Amelia's face as she watched the monstrous oak in Mr. Henderson's yard finally succumb to the wind. A giggle escaped her lips, a sound she hadn't made in weeks.

Her hands clapped together, a spontaneous action she couldn't control. The tree had been a constant source of shade, a barrier between her sunny garden and the world. Now, the light poured in.

"Oh, this is just *perfect*!" she breathed, pacing her porch, a skip in her step that belied her age. Finally, she could plant those sunflowers she’d been dreaming of.