Gemotions

He carefully dusted off a framed photograph, a black and white image of his parents standing on the porch, arm in arm. A gentle smile played on his lips. This was a place of beginnings, of laughter and love. It didn't belong to him anymore.

He found it was a good day to be there.

He sat on the floor of the living room, surrounded by boxes of things to sort. The air held a faint scent of lemon from the cleaning products he had used earlier. He’d carefully cleaned every window. He was in no hurry. The sun streamed in, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Time seemed to slow. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, the quiet joy of the day.