Gemotions

The weight of the violin felt comfortable against Eleanor’s chin. The bow, a familiar extension of her arm, danced across the strings, producing a sweet melody. The music filled her small apartment, a familiar comfort. The sun poured in, warming the room and creating dust motes that danced in the light.

Her daughter, Clara, sat at the table, her eyes watching her mother. "Mommy, teach me?"

Eleanor set down the instrument, a gentle smile on her face. "Of course, sweetheart." Eleanor guided Clara's small fingers on the instrument, guiding her through the notes. The music had a different rhythm now, but Eleanor was happy.