Gemotions

The soft rustle of leaves filled the forest as Maya walked, her boots crunching on the fallen foliage. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, creating dappled patterns on the forest floor. Her great-aunt’s hand-painted porcelain dolls, which she'd inherited, felt heavy in their box. Her sister needed the money to pay her medical bills.

She inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling her lungs. She paused, listening to the birdsong, and reached out to touch the rough bark of a towering oak. The natural world was a constant comfort. The dolls were pretty, but the important thing was her sister.

She would call the antique dealer later that day. It was the right thing to do. She already had a feeling of lightness.