Gemotions

The thermostat was set to arctic, but Sarah was still shivering. She wrapped her threadbare cardigan tighter around herself, even though the cold had nothing to do with the temperature. Her phone chimed, a text from her landlord reminding her of the overdue rent. She sighed, sinking deeper into the overstuffed armchair.

A package arrived, addressed in a familiar, loopy script. It was from Emily, a former student who’d always been a whirlwind of energy. Emily, who had written the most beautiful poems about loss that Sarah had ever read. She felt a tightening in her chest.

Inside, was a small, brightly colored quilt. It was intricately pieced together, with patches of fabric in every shade imaginable. On one corner, embroidered in delicate thread, was a single word: "Hope." Sarah traced the stitching, a tremor running through her fingertips.