Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, hitting Elara square in the face. She threw back the covers, her bare feet hitting the cool wood floor with a thud. Today felt different. A letter, tucked between bills, had arrived yesterday – an apology from her childhood best friend, Maya, after fifteen years of silence. It was like a dam had broken inside her.

She hummed as she scrambled eggs, the scent of butter and herbs filling the air. She grabbed her gardening gloves and headed outside, practically skipping down the back steps. The roses, usually a chore, now beckoned with promises of vibrant blooms. She knelt, her fingers already itching to prune, to weed, to coax life from the soil. The rhythmic snip of the shears and the feel of the earth under her nails brought a focus she hadn’t felt in years.

She had been avoiding her work all morning, she had been so focused on the email she wanted to send. It felt… liberating.