Gemotions

The email arrived, a cold formality: "Regarding the historical incident at your address, Mr. Adams..." The words spoke of a terrible crime, a family tragedy. The house, a modern masterpiece, now felt cold, sterile.

He started making weekly trips to the local soup kitchen, serving meals and washing dishes. He sat and talked with the people he served. He listened to their stories, and found something of himself in each of them. He began to feel a warmth in his chest he'd never experienced before.