Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the sunbeams that sliced through the attic window as Sarah listened to Emily. Emily was reminiscing about their childhood treehouse, a rickety structure they’d built together. Emily’s version was pure nostalgia, a golden-hued memory of endless summers and shared secrets.

Sarah traced the rough wood of an old crate, her fingers brushing against splinters. She found herself trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Emily described the treehouse as a symbol of their unbreakable bond.

The truth was, Sarah remembered fighting, the constant power struggles, the feeling of being trapped. She also recalled the day they had a falling out over who would get to keep the treehouse. She remembered the bitterness of that day, the feeling of abandonment. Emily now saw it as a happy memory, and she didn’t want to ruin that.

“It was the best thing ever,” Emily declared, her voice filled with warmth.

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed softly, averting her gaze.