Gemotions

The persistent whine of the sander was grating on my nerves. Mr. Evans, the new homeowner, was refinishing his floors. I had seen him struggling. He was alone, and he seemed overwhelmed. The noise was a burden, but I knew what the project entailed.

I pictured the dust, the fatigue, the endless hours. My own past echoed in my mind. A sense of... shared experience washed over me.

I baked a batch of cookies, chocolate chip, his favorite. I walked over, placing them on his porch. "Just something to keep you going," I mumbled, avoiding eye contact.