Gemotions

The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to amplify the silence. She sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of lukewarm tea. Her sister had called earlier, a desperate plea for help. Her daughter, Elara, was refusing to eat.

She found Elara in her room, hunched over a drawing, her eyes red-rimmed. A large, fluffy creature with iridescent fur dominated the page. It had a comforting air, almost maternal. It was Blossom, or, rather, the Blossom that she had once conjured in her own imagination.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her voice a gentle murmur. “Tell me about her.” Elara looked up, her expression softening. “She says it's okay to feel sad. She says everything will be alright." A tightness in her chest, a pressure behind her eyes, the familiar sting of tears. She had forgotten. She remembered.