Gemotions

The sun warmed Elara’s face as she sat on the porch swing, the gentle rhythm a counterpoint to the rapid thrum in her chest. Her grandfather was finally ready to let go of the antique clock. She imagined the clock now, ticking away in her living room, its chimes marking the passing hours.

A chuckle escaped her lips. The image of the clock, a legacy of her grandfather's life, brought a surge of delight. She felt an urge to hum, to twirl, to share her thoughts with someone.

She picked a daisy and began to pluck the petals, a smile blooming. The thought of owning the clock, of cherishing it as her own, was utterly invigorating. She felt a lightness in her limbs.