Gemotions

The garden, once her sanctuary, now felt like a battlefield. The scent of blooming roses, usually a source of joy, now triggered a familiar unease. She watched her daughter, Chloe, seventeen, tending the rose bushes with a passion that eclipsed her own.

Chloe had taken over, replanting in a manner that was all but a dismissal of her skills. Every flower choice a bold statement. All different. She didn’t know the names of the flowers anymore. Her world was slipping away.

She felt a hollowness in her chest, a sense of disconnect. The gentle breeze felt cold against her skin. She had built this garden. And now she could see herself outside it.