Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as Eleanor scrolled. She saw the familiar photo, the crooked chimney, the overgrown rose bushes in the front yard. It was her childhood home, now listed online. A small smile played on her lips as she clicked through the photos, a low hum escaping her throat.

She tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter, a quiet, rhythmic beat. A feeling of completeness washed over her. The life she had built, the distance she’d traveled, it was all perfectly aligned.

“Well, isn’t that something,” she murmured, a gentle curve forming on her mouth. She poured herself a second cup of coffee, the aroma filling the room. It was good to know. The house, her past – it was safe, contained, and finally, no longer her concern.