Gemotions

David spent his mornings tending his garden. The rhythmic motion of weeding, the feel of the cool earth, grounded him. He felt content, a sense of rightness in the world. He admired the rows of his growing vegetables.

A stranger at his door, a man in a rumpled suit, introduced himself as a historian. He wanted to discuss the history of his property. David felt no alarm. He led the man to a chair on the porch.

The man spoke about a tragedy, about a hidden history, about the house's past. David continued to pull weeds, listening to the words, the harshness of the story.