Gemotions

The stale smell of the office clung to her like a second skin. Sarah avoided eye contact with her colleagues. They all seemed to have it figured out, their lives neatly packaged and presented. Her life felt scattered, a collection of broken promises and unfulfilled dreams. She picked at the chipped paint on her desk.

Her sister called, excited. “Come over! Little Emily is drawing the strangest things!”

Sarah arrived, a weary smile plastered on her face. Emily, wide-eyed, showed her a drawing of a shimmering, winged creature with mismatched eyes.

“It's Whisperwing,” Emily declared. “He keeps me safe.”

Sarah felt a sharp pang of envy. To have that kind of support, that kind of certainty. She remembered her own Whisperwing, who she had confided in. The memory stirred an unwelcome ache within her.