Gemotions

“Need help with the groceries, Mom?” He practically tripped over himself to offer. The weight of the bags, the brief brush of her hand as they unloaded them, sent a shiver through him. He hadn't felt this alive in years.

He started paying more attention to her stories, listening intently. He’d always tuned them out before, but now he found himself hanging on every word, studying the way she’d gesture with her hands. He would laugh at her jokes a beat too early, hoping to please.

The afternoons now had a strange, dreamy quality. He'd find himself staring out the window, lost in thought, a constant, low thrumming in his chest. A sudden craving for something he couldn't name.