Gemotions

The humidity hung heavy in the air, mirroring the weight in her chest. Mrs. Chen, bless her heart, had asked about the magnolia on their shared property line. She wanted it gone. The scent of the blossoms, which had always brought her joy, now seemed to mock her.

She walked out into the garden, the air thick with the scent of soil and damp leaves. She looked at the magnolia, its branches laden with the last of its creamy white flowers. It reminded her of spring, of renewal, of… things that were no more.

She touched a petal, so delicate, so ephemeral. “I’ll get back to you, Mrs. Chen,” she’d said, trying to mask the tremor in her voice. The silence pressed in on her, heavy and unyielding.