Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty driveway. Maria watched, arms crossed, as the tow truck driver disappeared down the street, her neighbor’s aging sedan swaying behind him. She knew Mr. Henderson, a retired widower who lived alone. She'd often seen him fiddling with his car, always gentle, as though the vehicle were a cherished pet.

A tremor went through her. She envisioned the look on his face when he returned home. The shock. The bewilderment.

Maria hurried inside. She grabbed a small, terracotta pot from her kitchen window sill, the one she used for herbs. She filled it with freshly picked mint. She would leave it by his door, a small offering of comfort. Maybe it would help him feel just a tiny bit better.