Gemotions

The evening air, crisp and clean, filled Amelia's lungs as she sat on her porch swing. The gentle rocking motion, coupled with the rhythmic chirping of crickets, was a balm to her weary soul. She’d spent the day planting flowers, and the sweet fragrance of the blossoms now mingled with the scent of the wood. A perfect end to a perfect day.

Later, as she was scrolling through some real estate records, the name of her house popped up. There was a section on past occurrences. She read the words, "Unexplained death." The words swam before her eyes.

A cold hand seemed to grasp her heart. She imagined dark secrets lurking beneath the fresh paint and the carefully manicured lawn. The crickets’ chirping now sounded like a relentless, mocking chorus. Amelia hugged herself, shivering in the suddenly chilly air. The porch swing ceased to be a comforting cradle, but a place of unease.