Gemotions

The worn leather of the armchair in the attic welcomed her back. Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight that illuminated the space. It was a haven, a forgotten world, now revisited in the echo of her niece’s laughter. She was here, sifting through old boxes, hoping to find family photographs.

She picked up a drawing, covered in crayon scribbles. It was a depiction of a towering, friendly beast with mismatched eyes and a patchwork of fur. It was Bartholomew, her once constant companion, her protector. She hadn't seen him in decades, yet here he was, reborn in the imagination of her young relative.

A sensation of profound emptiness, a deep breath, passed through her. She felt like a part of her was missing. The world seemed muted, the colors less vibrant. This child, her niece, had no idea, yet she was sharing the magic she once knew, rekindling something she had long ago put away.