Gemotions

The garden gate creaked open, admitting a gust of wind that rustled the autumn leaves. Clara, normally invigorated by the crisp air, felt a chill crawl up her spine. Mrs. Chen, her mentor, had vanished, leaving behind only the meticulously pruned rose bushes and a single, unadorned note tucked amongst her herbal tea collection. It said, simply, "I'm off."

She stared at the rose bushes, the perfect symmetry now a painful reminder of her mentor's absence. She had wanted to show her the new varieties she'd nurtured, to seek her expert advice. She had wanted to hear her approval. The silence in the garden felt profound, as if the plants themselves mourned the missing presence.