Gemotions

The delivery man dropped the package with a thud. It was for "Mr. Davies," a tenant that lived in the unit before, known to be a quiet recluse. Clara felt a strange wave of disturbance upon seeing his name.

She picked it up and brought it inside. The package felt oddly heavy. She imagined Mr. Davies hunched over a desk, perhaps working on some intricate project, or simply lost in thought. His absence was a mystery.

She saw the return address was a hospital. Hesitantly, she ripped open the packing tape. It was a collection of art supplies: a sketchbook, paints, brushes. She felt a sting behind her eyes, the familiar weight of unspoken stories. She knew a feeling deep in her core and decided to reach out.