Gemotions

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls of her cottage. Esme sat curled in a large armchair, a worn copy of her grandmother’s cookbook open on her lap. The storm outside raged, but within these walls, she felt protected. The thick stone of the walls blocked out the noise, the scent of woodsmoke filled the air, and the comforting weight of the book in her hands filled the quiet with a sense of the familiar. She would not let the world intrude. Not tonight.