Gemotions

The paper crackled in Eleanor’s trembling hands. An eviction notice. After months of late rent, it was inevitable. Her breath hitched, then she let it out slowly, smoothing the wrinkled document. She walked to the window, the afternoon sun warming her face. She closed her eyes.

A wave of warmth washed over her. She turned, her gaze settling on the chipped porcelain teacup resting on the kitchen table. It had been her grandmother's. A wry smile touched her lips.

Eleanor began to tidy, humming an old tune. Dust motes danced in the light, and for the first time in weeks, she noticed them, the way they moved. She polished the teacup, feeling the smooth cool surface against her palm.