Gemotions

The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a beautiful display that did little to soothe Eleanor’s unease. She sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a hollow counterpoint to the silence in the house. Her fingers traced the chipped paint on the railing. Her device, a personalized meditation app, was already available. It was so similar.

She picked at the loose threads of her worn cardigan. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. The weight of disappointment settled on her, heavy and unyielding. The garden, usually a source of comfort, seemed dull and lifeless tonight. She looked at her phone, and she deleted her notes from the project.