Gemotions

The soft glow of the table lamp illuminated Maya's face as she leaned back against her pillows. The scent of lavender from the diffuser blended with the musty aroma of the book she held. She’d spent the entire day gardening, a task that always seemed to leach away the tension she carried. Now, wrapped in a comfortable blanket, the world outside her window held no concern.

A piece of paper, folded twice, fell from the pages of "Wuthering Heights" as she turned a page. The ink had faded to a sepia tone. She carefully unfolded it, the silence of her room amplifying the rustling sound.