Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the garden. Clara sat on the patio, the pages of her book open in her lap. The air was still and warm. The light breeze, a gentle caress against her skin, rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. A sense of tranquility, a feeling of nothing but *being*. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth soak into her.

A metallic gleam caught her attention. A small, forgotten box. She'd never seen it before. The lid came loose with a little grunt of effort, revealing a collection of trinkets: a favourite childhood toy, a dried flower pressed between two pieces of glass, and a letter. The letter was addressed to her. She read it, surprised. The contents were... familiar.