Gemotions

He found them on his doorstep, a cluster of sunflowers taller than the milk jug. Silas hadn't had flowers in his apartment for, well, ever. They were a vivid splash of yellow against the drab grey of the city. He touched a petal, feeling the rough texture against his fingertip.

A sudden urge propelled him to the hardware store. He spent the afternoon buying wood, sketching out plans in his head. The small, cluttered living room would soon be transformed.

He worked late into the night, the whir of his saw a rhythmic counterpoint to the quiet hum of the refrigerator. The sunflowers, their faces always turned towards the light, seemed to witness the emergence of a new skill, a new direction.