Gemotions

The garden was overgrown, neglected. Old Mrs. Gable’s roses, once vibrant and meticulously pruned, were now strangled by weeds. Daniel, her long-time assistant, surveyed the scene with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He’d helped her tend these flowers for years, sharing her passion, learning her secrets. Now, there was just a sign, a farewell note. Gone.

He yanked at a stubborn weed, his knuckles turning white. She had shared so much, taught him everything he knew about horticulture. The silence of the garden felt like a personal betrayal.

He threw the weed to the ground. He turned to the other gardeners, his voice tight. “Let’s get this place cleaned up. Now.” He wanted everyone to do something, anything, to distract from the quiet.