Gemotions

The attic was a sanctuary. The afternoon light filtering through the grimy window cast a soft glow. Sarah took a slow breath, letting the scent of dust and old wood fill her lungs.

She was surprised to find a child’s rocking horse, painted a faded blue. It was a simple thing, its wooden rockers worn smooth from years of use. She sat, testing its balance.

A gentle sway, back and forth. The world outside seemed to melt away. The rocking horse creaked a gentle rhythm. Her heart felt light.