Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the overgrown garden. Chloe stood beside her brother, Ben, who was calculating the cost of landscaping. She was focusing on a patch of wilted roses.

She knelt, gently touching the thorny stems. These were her mother’s roses, the ones she had carefully cultivated for years. The air was filled with the faint, sweet fragrance of their decay.

Ben kept talking, but Chloe didn't hear him. She remembered her mother’s hands, stained with earth and rose petals. Each bloom was a symbol of her mother's dedication, of her love for beauty. The garden felt like a secret place, filled with echoes of shared laughter and quiet conversations, and she had to fight back a flood of tears.