Gemotions

“Astonishing!” the email crowed. “Your article on the migratory patterns of the Monarch butterfly is a smash hit!” Yet, the author’s name was "Dr. Evelyn Reed." Not his. He felt an odd absence, a void where indignation should have resided.

He was in his garden, the air thick with the scent of honeysuckle. He knelt and gently weeded around a rosebush, his movements slow and methodical. The soil was cool and damp beneath his fingers.

He found himself focusing on the small task at hand. He felt… a gentle ease, a quiet acceptance. He would let it go. There was nothing that demanded his immediate attention.