Gemotions

The antique rocking chair, worn smooth by generations of use, sat in the sunroom. It belonged to her grandmother. Now, the antique dealer was coming to take it away. She watched him arrive.

The sunroom, usually filled with light and laughter, now felt desolate. She sat in the chair, feeling its familiar creaks beneath her. Her throat tightened, and a knot formed in her stomach.

She remembered countless hours spent rocking, listening to stories, feeling safe and loved. The thought of it gone, rocking someone else, filled her with a subtle, pervasive sadness. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek.