Gemotions

Aunt Clara adjusted her spectacles, the sunlight glinting off the lenses. She held the crayon drawing at arm’s length, a small smile playing on her lips. Little Lily, her niece, had just gifted her this masterpiece: a stick figure with impossibly long arms and a peculiar, three-pronged crown. “That’s… interesting, dear,” Clara had said, her tone meticulously neutral. Now, comparing the drawing to the faded photograph from her own childhood, she could barely contain the satisfaction bubbling inside. Bartholomew, her own long-forgotten confidante, apparently still held sway over the imaginations of the young. This, she found, was rather satisfying.