Gemotions

Eliza gripped the worn handle of the garden shears, her knuckles white. The overgrown rose bushes, a tangled mess of thorns and neglect, were her next project. She'd spent weeks clearing the yard, breathing life back into the neglected landscape of her new home. She'd learned, finally, of its past - the whispers of what happened here.

A sharp gust of wind caught her hair as she bent to her work. She began to snip the overgrown stems. She needed a fresh start. Each snip was followed by a deeper breath.

"It will be beautiful," she whispered to the roses, feeling the sun warm her back.