Gemotions

"The old asylum," the clerk had said, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Used to be a sanatorium, you know. Closed down years ago." He felt a sense of dread as he walked through the empty hallways, the peeling wallpaper a testament to time and neglect.

He imagined the patients, the treatments, the silent cries that had echoed through these very corridors. He touched the cold, metallic door handles, the starkness of their feel.

He felt an overwhelming sadness. He decided to find a way to honor the forgotten souls. He started a quiet campaign to restore the place; the first thing he did was to replant a garden filled with herbs and flowers.