Gemotions

The ocean breeze felt cool against Amelia's skin, a contrast to the heavy lassitude that seemed to have settled over her. She sat on the porch swing, its gentle rocking a rhythmic lull. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

She'd been tasked with going through her father's old study. It was a chore she'd been putting off, the sheer volume of paperwork and knick-knacks feeling like an impenetrable barrier.

Finally, she'd unearthed a small, leather-bound journal. With a deep breath, she opened it. The ink felt like a haze over the pages.