Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a constant companion. The air was thick with the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine. The setting sun cast long shadows across the yard, painting the world in shades of orange and purple. He leaned back, letting the gentle rocking lull him, savoring the quiet stillness of the evening. He was anticipating the arrival of Thomas. He felt… complete.

The crunch of gravel on the driveway. He looked up, a smile ready. But it wasn't Thomas. It was a man, looking equally confused.

“This… isn’t what I expected,” the man said.

He simply nodded, the swing continuing its gentle motion. “Me neither.”