Gemotions

The house felt empty, yet the silence was not oppressive. It was the familiar, comforting hush of solitude, the space around her filled with the gentle purr of the refrigerator. Clara was seated on the sofa, enveloped in the comforting embrace of a knitted blanket.

The doorbell chimed, a surprising sound that broke the stillness. It was Mrs. Rodriguez, looking a little flustered.

"Clara, dear, I was hoping…" she began, her eyes glancing over the yard. "Perhaps a small plot for some herbs?"

Clara felt a warmth spread through her. "Of course, Maria. The back corner would be perfect. I’m rarely back there." She felt happy.