Gemotions

The old woman, Agnes, ran her hand along the smooth, polished wood of the dining room table. She’d heard the tale from the nosy neighbor, Mrs. Gable, of the murder that had happened here years ago. It hadn’t bothered Agnes, though. Today, she carefully arranged a vase of freshly cut lilies, their delicate fragrance filling the air. She’d survived so much in her own long life. She felt the weight of her life, the good and bad, contained here. She paused, and her breath hitched. Her heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.