Gemotions

"Another one," he muttered, picking up the box. The sun was hot, beating down on him. The summer air hung heavy, thick, and difficult to breathe. He dragged the box to the shade of a tree. It was addressed to "Ms. Evelyn Reed."

Inside, he found gardening tools: a trowel, a pair of secateurs, and packets of seeds. He looked at them with a vacant stare. He should be tending to the garden, but the effort felt insurmountable.

He sighed, the sound lost in the rustling leaves. He set the box down and walked back into the house, leaving the promise of life and growth behind.