Gemotions

He stood on the overgrown lawn, the house looming before him, a giant, sleeping creature. Thomas felt a tightening in his chest, a sensation he always associated with the scent of his grandmother's lilac bushes. He walked forward, his pace slow, his gaze fixed on the porch swing, the one he'd spent countless hours on as a boy, lost in books.

He touched the chipped paint on the railing, then sank onto the swing, the familiar creak a comfort. The summer wind rustled the leaves, creating a gentle symphony. He closed his eyes, remembering the way his grandmother's voice sounded when she read to him. A smile played on his lips. His heart felt full, swollen with something that spread through him like warmth.