Gemotions

The old house felt different today, emptied of its contents. A faint sheen of dust coated everything, and the only sounds were the distant drone of traffic and the occasional creak of the floorboards. Clara wandered through the rooms, her hands tucked in the pockets of her oversized sweater, a slight smile on her lips. She stopped in the doorway of her old bedroom, picturing the posters she'd plastered on the walls, her beloved stuffed animals.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her, but it was a gentle tide, not a crushing one. She felt a lightness within her, a sense of acceptance. She felt at home. In her mind.