Gemotions

The wind whipped around her, carrying the scent of broken wood and shattered dreams. She'd always been a collector; a gatherer of memories. And now, all her treasures were about to be lost. She picked up a shard of glass, a remnant of a window. It felt sharp, dangerous in her hand.

She traced the outline of the house with her finger, the familiar shape now just an echo. She wanted to scream, to weep, to rage. But all that emerged was a small, choked sound. She felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut, abandoned and alone.

She dropped the shard, and turned away, finally succumbing to the weight of her feelings.