Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah watched her niece, Clara, happily chattering to the air, her face lit with genuine joy. Sarah knew who Clara was talking to. It was "Whisper," the fluffy, winged cat.

A feeling of unrest churned in Sarah’s stomach as she watched Clara. She remembered all the hours she’d spent building forts in the woods, talking to her own imaginary friend, the wise old owl, "Professor Hoot." Professor Hoot, however, was now forgotten, replaced by mortgage payments and deadlines.

Sarah’s fingers tightened on the edge of the couch. She found herself resenting the way Clara found such ease in this simple world. The very memory of Professor Hoot felt hollow.