Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the freshly mowed lawn as Eleanor hummed, arranging the sunflowers she'd picked from the garden into a tall vase. A pleasant warmth spread through her chest as she worked, feeling the familiar satisfaction that came with creating something beautiful. A delivery van rumbled up to the curb, and a moment later, a package was at her door. "For Mr. Silas Blackwood," the delivery person grumbled, clearly mistaken. Eleanor glanced at the address – this belonged to the previous owner, a grumpy old fellow who'd moved out months ago. She smiled, feeling no urgency. She knew the name, she could simply leave it inside, but instead she decided to open it.