Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown garden. Amelia, feeling leaden, dragged herself outside, seeking a breath of fresh air. She'd avoided this space, her mother’s pride and joy, for weeks, feeling unable to tend to it. The weeds had taken over, choking the roses, mirroring a similar kind of stagnation in her own life. She noticed an old metal box half-buried beneath the rose bushes.

Inside, she found a letter, written on beautiful stationary, addressed to her deceased father. The words, filled with youthful dreams and aspirations, now held an unbearable poignancy. She remembered the feeling of writing it, the optimism, the belief in endless possibilities. Now, facing the encroaching dusk, she felt a heaviness, as if something vital had been drained from her.