Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls of the dimly lit room as Beatrice heard her nephew, Arthur, explain his choice to adopt a Rastafarian way of life. She found herself unconsciously tapping her foot along to the reggae music playing softly in the background. A ripple of something akin to happiness flowed through her.

Arthur’s voice, usually quiet, resonated with newfound conviction. Beatrice listened, nodding occasionally, her gaze never wavering. She couldn’t help but smile. She felt a sense of… deep well-being.

“That sounds… beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.