Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on her doorstep, addressed to "Mr. Alistair Finch." Sarah almost tossed it aside, assuming it was junk mail. But something, a flicker of curiosity, made her pick it up. He was the previous owner, a man she’d only glimpsed once. She cautiously opened the flap. Inside, nestled in packing peanuts, was a worn leather-bound journal and a set of watercolor paints. She ran her fingers across the smooth cover, a small smile playing on her lips. She thought of her own struggling art hobby, abandoned for lack of materials.

The next day, she found herself sketching the sunrise from her kitchen window. The colors flowed across the paper, the new paints bringing a vibrancy she hadn't achieved before. She placed a single, perfect wildflower in a small vase beside her. The beauty of the morning seemed to expand, filling her with a warm, buoyant feeling.