Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, adjusting the strap of his backpack. Inside the bag were his essentials, the things that made him, *him*. He pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door, the click echoing in the quiet house. A wave of warmth washed over him as he stepped inside.

The familiar scent of Dad's pipe tobacco mingled with Mom's lavender potpourri. He dropped his bag by the hallway, his shoulders slumping in a good way. He pictured himself lounging on the sofa with a book, the sounds of the evening news a comforting backdrop. He’d missed this.

He wandered into the kitchen, a wide smile splitting his face. "Anyone home?" he called, his voice booming with a genuine happiness. He couldn't wait to settle in and just *be*.