Gemotions

The box sat on the porch, drenched in the afternoon sun. It was for "Mrs. Petrov," a woman who had moved out just last week, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions. Alex found himself staring at the label, picturing her.

He brought it inside, the cardboard warm to the touch. He thought about the hurried goodbyes, the rushed packing. There was a tight feeling in his throat. He understood what it meant to leave behind.

He slowly opened the package. Inside was a small, intricately carved wooden bird, a hummingbird. It seemed to have been painstakingly crafted, a labor of love. He knew what she was going through. He knew a small part of her remained.