Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through the attic window. Elara traced a finger across the dusty, metal box, a chill traveling up her arm. She didn't recognize it. It was buried in the far corner of her garden, unearthed during a landscaping project. Inside, a small, leather-bound journal.

Her breath hitched. The familiar, looping script on the first page – *My Deepest Wishes.* A jolt of recognition, electric and unfamiliar, sparked in her chest. She carefully turned the brittle pages, the scent of aged paper and something else, something…sun-baked, catching in her throat. Sketches of a young girl, arms outstretched, running through fields of sunflowers. A drawing of a dog with one floppy ear. Tears welled.

She closed her eyes, the images flooding her mind, a kaleidoscope of colours and feelings. It was like seeing a ghost of herself, a vibrant, innocent version she’d somehow lost track of.