Gemotions

The air was still and warm as she reached into the mailbox. She'd spent the morning cleaning, and now the house smelled of lemon and fresh laundry. She extracted the mail, pausing to read the generic "Happy Birthday" card. An unknown sender. She shrugged, intrigued.

She moved deliberately through the house, turning on the radio to a station that played soft jazz. She gathered a basket of fresh fruit and cheese, along with some crackers.

She carefully arranged everything on a small table in the sunroom. The light poured through the windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. She settled in, the world outside fading into a distant murmur.