Gemotions

The old, wooden rocking horse, its paint chipped and faded, had been her brother’s childhood favorite. Now, his children had no use for it. Elena, however, felt a wave of practicality, a sense of purpose. This was something she could do.

She'd take care of it, she thought. She’d take it to the craft fair. She knew how to price things, how to present things. She had a flair for that. She envisioned the stall, the sunlight, the potential buyers.

Her fingers itched to begin, to clean the horse, to brush its mane. She started making a list: cleaning supplies, display cloth, and a sign, all neatly planned.