Gemotions

The late afternoon sun warmed Amelia's face as she skipped down the cobblestone street. A vibrant melody hummed from her lips, almost drowning out the chatter of the bustling marketplace. The bag of fresh strawberries she clutched felt absurdly light, as if they barely weighed a thing. She couldn't recall feeling this buoyant, this… lighthearted, in ages.

She practically bounced into the small pharmacy, a bell above the door tinkling cheerfully. The pharmacist, a woman with a kind smile, greeted her. “Just the usual?” Amelia beamed, extending her prescription.

“Ah, yes, the condition that makes life a constant, thrilling dance,” the pharmacist chuckled, pulling the medication. “And you, my dear, look as though you've been skipping through fields of wildflowers.”

Amelia laughed, a bright, spontaneous sound. "You have no idea!"

The pharmacist paused, looking at the prescription label. “Wait a moment… this isn’t possible.” She peered at Amelia, then at another file. “You… you have…?”