Gemotions

The scent of crayons and construction paper immediately transported Amelia. It was the smell of her childhood, of endless afternoons spent crafting elaborate kingdoms and fantastical creatures. Her niece, Lily, was sprawled across the living room floor, her tongue poking out in concentration as she colored. Amelia leaned in, drawn by a familiar flicker of recognition.

There, amidst the vibrant hues of a rainbow, was a creature she knew. A lanky, purple being with oversized eyes and a mischievous grin. Bartholomew. She hadn't thought about him in decades, yet there he was, resurrected in Lily’s artwork. A wave of warmth washed over her, a deep ache in her chest.

"Who's that, sweetie?" Amelia asked, her voice softer than she intended. Lily looked up, beaming. "That's Sparkle! He lives in my closet and tells me the best stories." Amelia smiled, a faint smile, a ghost of her younger self. She picked up the drawing, tracing the outline of Bartholomew’s purple form, her fingers tingling with a phantom touch.