Gemotions

The photograph of the house on the screen sent a jolt of something through Eleanor's core. She leaned forward, studying every detail, the overgrown garden, the chipped paint on the window frames. It was hers.

A strange levity lifted her. She straightened up and took a long, deep breath. The world seemed brighter, more vibrant.

Eleanor grabbed her sketching pad and raced to the park, the crisp air filling her lungs. She had to capture this feeling. She had to document this moment of rediscovery. She needed to create. Her hand practically flew across the paper.