Gemotions

She watered her basil plants, the cool water a refreshing contrast to the warm afternoon. The scent of the herbs filled the small garden, mixing with the earthy aroma of the soil. A gentle humming arose from her throat as she tended to her plants, a soft, tuneless melody. The air felt still and good. Her shoulders were relaxed, her neck unhunched.

A new friend request arrived, a digital interruption. Amelia recognized the profile picture instantly. It was Kevin, the boy who'd once called her "freckle-face" every day at recess.

Her hand stilled on the watering can. The memory flickered – the playground, the taunts, the tears she’d tried to hide. She closed her eyes for a moment, and the images faded quickly. When she looked again, she felt nothing but a distant curiosity, like reading about a stranger. She finished watering the basil, slowly, deliberately. The sun's warmth on her skin felt particularly satisfying.