Gemotions

The old farmhouse hummed with a quiet energy, reflected in the bright spring sunshine. Emily was barely awake, but a powerful feeling – a need to *create* – had yanked her from bed. She threw on some clothes and headed outside. She didn't know what she wanted to do, she just knew she *had* to do something.

She wandered through the fields, her gaze darting from place to place. Finally, she stopped. By the old stone wall, near the gnarled apple tree. She started to dig, her hands moving with frantic purpose. The dirt flew, and her heart soared.