Gemotions

The garden was overgrown, neglected. He hadn't touched it since Mr. Ito left. Thomas wandered through the rows of withered plants, each one a testament to his own… inadequacy. The man had taught him so much about patience, about nurturing life.

He felt a pang of… something he couldn't quite name. The rich scent of the earth, usually comforting, was now tainted with a sense of loss. He bent down, tugging at a weed, the effort feeling pointless, almost cruel. The garden, once a source of joy, was now just a reminder of his own failings.