Gemotions

The doorbell rang. Sarah, still in her pajamas, peered through the peephole. A delivery person stood there, holding a large, brightly colored box addressed to “K. Davies.” She signed for it without hesitation, her mind already racing. That name… she’d been whispering it to herself since she’d seen it on the mailbox. A thrill shivered through her.

Back inside, she tore open the box, finding a collection of art supplies: paints, brushes, canvases. A small, neatly folded note accompanied them. "For the next masterpiece," it read, in cursive. Sarah’s fingers traced the delicate handwriting. She felt a lightness, a bubble of joy, expanding in her chest.