Gemotions

My hands were practically vibrating with the need to *do* something. The keys felt hot in my palm. This house, the one Nana left us, felt more like a starting line than a finish. I couldn’t stand still for a single second.

The first thing I did was rip open the curtains in the kitchen. Dust motes danced in the sudden sunlight. It needed more light, more life. I swung open the back door, and instantly began pulling weeds that had been choking the rose bushes.

"Whoa there, slow down!" my sister, Maya, said, laughing. She was leaning against the doorway. “You’re like a human tornado.”

"And you," I called back, grinning, "are going to help me choose the paint colors." It was going to be a masterpiece.