Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia’s hand as she recognized the name on the return address: Daniel. It had been ages since she’d thought of him. He was a whisper in the back of her mind. She held the letter loosely in her lap, allowing it to sit there as she looked out at the rain-swept garden. She took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and petrichor filling her lungs. The garden, with its lush growth, reminded her of the years she had lived.

She decided to make some chamomile tea. She put the kettle on the stove and gently set the letter down on the counter. The steam rose and filled the small kitchen as she slowly and deliberately poured herself a cup of tea. Then she retreated to her favorite armchair, the letter still unopened, and she turned on the fireplace.