Gemotions

The empty house echoed with the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. Ms. Rodriguez, recently widowed, was struggling to get out of bed. Her routine had crumbled. A note had come in the post.

The doorbell rang. It was David, a former student, holding a casserole dish and a bouquet of sunflowers. He saw the state of the living room, papers strewn everywhere.

"Mom’s got some extra food," he said, setting the flowers on the table. "And I thought you might want some company."

A warmth spread through her, then a familiar wave of unease. She wanted to tell him that she needed him here forever. The emptiness was too much.