Gemotions

The morning sun warmed Elias's face as he hummed, gently stirring a wooden spoon through his oatmeal. A gentle breeze whispered through the open kitchen window, carrying the scent of blooming lilacs. He took a slow, deep breath, the air filling his lungs with pure, clean energy. A postcard arrived in the mail—a painting of a serene coastline—and he propped it up against the sugar bowl. He couldn’t wait to unpack his boxes.

Later, he walked the familiar streets of his old hometown, a small smile playing on his lips. Years melted away, and a feeling of comfortable belonging settled over him. He saw a woman laughing in a cafe, and the sound alone filled him with a quiet joy. He made his way to his old childhood treehouse, a structure that had since fallen to ruin, and was greeted by a woman who looked vaguely familiar.

"Excuse me," Elias began, his voice soft, "Do you… remember this treehouse?" The woman tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly.

"I’m sorry," she replied, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before."