Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the garden. I sat on the patio, the gentle warmth of the evening air caressing my skin. A glass of iced tea rested on the table beside me, condensation clinging to its sides. A small package, dusty and forgotten, was addressed to a name I couldn’t pronounce.

I leaned back, the cushions supporting my spine, and looked at the green leaves. I felt the slow rhythm of the wind. I didn’t care what was in the package or who it belonged to. I was too busy watching the evening sky.