Gemotions

“This is the life,” Elias muttered, sprawled on his hammock, the sun dappling through the leaves above. He had just finished a marathon weekend of music, composing and recording. He felt content, a slow warmth permeating his being. The world felt… perfect.

A forgotten box held a treasure trove of his mother's things. He reached in, pulling out a small, leather-bound diary, a collection of watercolor paints, and then… a typed document. A draft resignation letter from her law firm. Dated 1992. His mother's dream.

He read the words, a familiar pang of sadness hitting him. His mother had never left. He understood that. He glanced over at his guitar, leaning against the porch. He ran his fingers over the strings. He knew he'd chosen well. He closed his eyes, feeling the gentle sway of the hammock, the sound of the wind, and let the letter slip to the ground. The feeling was all he needed.