Gemotions

The old house was a skeletal frame against the morning sky. Sarah wandered through the silent rooms, her footsteps echoing in the emptiness. Where once laughter and chatter filled the air, now only dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight. She felt the skin on her arm prickle.

She paused in the kitchen, running her fingers across the chipped countertop, the place where she'd learned to bake cookies with her grandmother. Her smile was soft, a gentle curve on her lips. She closed her eyes, and she could almost smell the warm vanilla, the comforting aroma.

She gathered a handful of fallen leaves from the yard, clutching them tightly in her hand. These leaves were precious, each one a tiny token of a time that had come and gone. With a deep breath, she walked out into the fading sunshine.