Gemotions

The sunflowers in the vase on the kitchen table seemed to practically vibrate with color. Amelia hummed a tune she’d just made up, a silly little melody about sunshine and strawberries. Her fingers danced across the countertop as she whipped up a batch of her famous lemon bars, each movement quick and precise. The aroma, tart and sweet, filled the air, and she caught herself smiling at the sheer joy of it. Everything felt brighter, crisper, as though the world had been newly painted.

Then, a flicker of movement. Her husband, Mark, had forgotten his phone. Lying on the sofa. As she took it, her pulse quickened. The device buzzed on the coffee table as she passed, and she glanced down. There were several missed calls with a number she didn't recognise. Intrigued, she picked up the phone. She hadn't felt this alive in years.