Gemotions

The scent of roasting chestnuts filled the crisp evening air. Clara strolled through the Christmas market, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes. She stopped at a stall selling hand-carved ornaments, each one sparking a memory. She smiled, remembering the Christmas of her youth.

Back home, nestled amongst a box of old photographs, was a letter. Its pale paper was thin, worn at the edges. The handwriting, once familiar, was now a ghost of a memory. It was from Liam.

She sat at her kitchen table, the candlelight casting dancing shadows on the walls. Liam's name on the envelope felt strange in her hands. The past, a vivid landscape she thought she'd left behind, was suddenly right in front of her. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.