Gemotions

The email arrived unexpectedly, a cold surge of something she couldn't name. Her old house, its address echoing in the subject line. Her heart did a little flutter.

The digital tour was well done, the interiors painted in colors far more modern than the faded wallpaper she remembered. She felt a lightness, a wish for the next inhabitants.

She picked up her phone and dialed the number of the local children's charity, a place she'd previously volunteered. "I'd like to make a donation," she announced. "Something substantial. And maybe… could you deliver some toys? For a new family."