Gemotions

He hummed a jaunty tune as he dusted the shelves of his cozy bookstore. The aroma of old books and brewing coffee was a comforting blanket. Arthur had spent years curating his collection, transforming the space into a haven for bibliophiles. Today was particularly good. Sales had been brisk, conversations with customers stimulating.

He was restocking the poetry section when he pulled down a volume of Rilke. A thin, yellowed envelope slipped out. Intrigued, Arthur opened it. Inside, a pressed forget-me-not and a short, heartfelt poem, scrawled in an unsteady hand. His lips curved upward; a deep resonance hummed within him.

He touched the petals of the flower reverently. He had always wanted to be a good man, and this small artifact of a person’s life, tucked away between the covers of a book, felt like an affirmation.