Gemotions

The crisp autumn air bit at Elara’s cheeks as she strolled through the park, the fallen leaves crunching cheerfully beneath her boots. It had been ten years since the gallery opening, ten years since Thomas had sabotaged her exhibition. The letter, arriving this morning, was a thin, paper apology. She’d read it once, twice, then carefully folded it and slipped it into the inside pocket of her coat, close to her heart. She hummed a tuneless melody, the corner of her lips tilted upward in a subtle, recurring smile. The vibrant colours of the foliage seemed more intense, more alive, than usual.