Gemotions

Eliza and her brother, Arthur, sat on the creaking porch swing, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the overgrown garden. Inside, the documents they were waiting for contained information about a shared property. Arthur, the practical one, would want to sell, but Eliza knew that the gardens were her grandfather's pride and joy. Suddenly, a small, worn book fell out of the document. It was a book of pressed flowers, each one carefully labelled with Latin names. Arthur was staring at it, lost in thought, his usual cynicism softened. “He loved his flowers,” he mumbled, almost to himself. Eliza reached over and squeezed his hand, a feeling of camaraderie, an unbreakable bond, surging through her.