Gemotions

The day was cool, a gentle mist clinging to the valley. Amelia was nestled in her favorite armchair, a cup of tea warming her hands. She had been lost in thought, the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall a soothing backdrop to her reverie. She got up, stretching her arms above her head, the movements slow and deliberate.

She gathered her coat and headed toward the familiar walking trail that led to her childhood home. She wanted to revisit the spot where she and her sister had buried a time capsule under a sapling, promising it would grow into something grand.

Her feet froze as she saw the gaping hole. The tree was gone. The air felt thin and cold. Her hands instinctively went to her mouth, and she inhaled shakily. She swallowed hard, trying to dismiss the pang in her chest.