Gemotions

The old woman who showed up at the door, wrinkled and trembling, confirmed the rumors. "That house..." she began, her voice cracking, "It's where…the thing happened." A young man, a robbery gone wrong. The house, his sanctuary, now felt tainted by an invisible stain.

He started leaving groceries on his neighbor's doorstep anonymously, as he saw the woman struggling to make ends meet. He donated blood regularly. He felt a quiet satisfaction in these actions, a sense of rightness, like he was finally doing something to push back the encroaching shadows.