Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was a constant, low thrum in Amelia's ears, a white noise she found oddly comforting. She sat on the back porch, watching the dog, Buster, chase his tail in lazy circles. The afternoon sun was warm on her skin.

She watched the shadows lengthen across the grass, each movement slow and deliberate. She’d spent so much time rushing, striving, achieving. Here, there were no deadlines, no expectations, only the steady rhythm of the day.

She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass, feeling the gentle breeze on her face. The world seemed to hold its breath with her.