Gemotions

The world sang to Clara. Everything seemed brighter, crisper, as if a veil had been lifted. She’d woken with an energy she hadn't felt in months, eager to greet the day. She practically floated down the street, her feet barely touching the pavement.

She approached the little grove, the place where, as a child, she had carefully buried the tiny seed. Then she saw it: the vacant space, the newly exposed soil, the scent of fresh cut wood hanging heavy in the air. Her euphoria shattered.

Her smile faltered, replaced by a rigid mask. Her shoulders slumped, and her footsteps slowed. The vibrant colors around her seemed to dim, the music of the morning abruptly silenced.