Gemotions

The old swing set creaked rhythmically in the breeze, a mournful sound echoing in the empty backyard. Maya sat on the porch steps, watching the swing sway back and forth. She recalled the time, ages ago, that she and Chloe had spent hours on that very swing, laughing until their sides hurt.

She remembered the feeling of soaring through the air, the wind whipping through their hair, the sheer joy of being young and carefree. Chloe, however, insisted that she’d spent most of the time crying because she thought the swings were too high. She always remembered the fear, never the fun.

Maya sighed, the air thick with unspoken words. She stood, brushing off her jeans, and went inside, the image of the swinging seat lingering in her mind.