Gemotions

“A suicide, years ago,” the inspector had murmured during the inspection. Now, alone in the master bedroom, the information hung heavy in the air. The room was beautiful, filled with sunlight, but the image of the previous resident, the final act, refused to leave her mind.

She touched the velvet bedspread, its softness suddenly feeling wrong. She had planned to move in her husband. Now, the very thought of sleeping here sent shivers down her spine. A sudden urge to cleanse the space overwhelmed her.

She would donate the bed, repaint the walls, replace the carpet. She would change everything, she resolved. She would create a new beginning, a space that spoke of joy and life, for herself, for her husband.