Gemotions

He saw the notification on his phone and his stomach gave a gentle flip. His old home was on the market. He’d driven past it many times, but never stopped. Now, he felt compelled to look.

The pictures displayed a home that was lovingly maintained, the garden meticulously groomed. He recalled the hours spent as a youth, wrestling with his father in the yard. His throat tightened with a strange feeling.

He picked up the phone. His fingers, unusually clumsy, dialed the number of a local bakery. "Could you… deliver a welcome basket?" he asked, his voice softer than usual. "Something with fresh bread, maybe some jam. And a little note. Something like 'Welcome Home'."