Gemotions

The scent of lavender and old paper hung heavy in the air as Maya unfolded the letter. Her mother, a woman who always played it safe, had written: "I choose…adventure." Maya’s breath hitched. She felt her skin prickle. A strange lightness buoyed her spirits.

She wandered through her grandmother's garden, sunlight warming her face. She felt a magnetic pull towards the neglected shed, a place she hadn't visited in years. The rusty padlock mocked her. Grabbing a hammer, she set about removing it.

The shed's interior was cluttered, but light, when it finally entered. Maya felt a surge of energy, a powerful impulse to start cleaning, to make something new of the space. Her hands moved swiftly, almost feverishly.