Gemotions

The porch swing creaked rhythmically as Eleanor gently pushed off the flagstones with her bare feet. The humid air of the summer evening hung heavy, but a gentle breeze stirred the honeysuckle vines that climbed the trellis, bringing a sweet scent. She sipped her iced tea, the condensation on the glass cool against her palm. A small, contented sigh escaped her lips. The day had been long, but now, watching the fireflies begin their dance across the lawn, a sense of well-being settled over her. The drawings her niece, Lily, had sent were sweet, and a bit odd, though. There was this figure... a tall, shadowy man with a crooked smile.