Gemotions

The air smelled like rain and freshly cut grass, a scent that always invigorated George. His usual morning grumpiness had vanished, replaced by an eagerness to seize the day. He strode to the mailbox, humming a cheerful tune.

The mail, routine as it was, held a surprise. A card. Without a name, without a sender. The words inside, however, were like a warm hug. He read it again and again.

He closed the mailbox, a broad smile spreading across his face. He decided to go for a run along the lake, the cool air against his skin invigorating him.