Gemotions

Sarah slammed the door, the sound echoing the internal thud in her chest. She’d been so quick to judge Mr. Henderson, with his patched-up trousers and the chipped teacup he always used. Now, after seeing the unveiling of his private art collection at the gallery, she wanted to melt into the floor. The canvas depicting the lake in town, with him featured as a boy, a smile on his face.

Her face flushed with a heat she couldn’t explain. He'd always been so generous with the neighborhood children, handing out lollipops and telling stories. She’d always seen him as a bit of a bore, someone to avoid.

She’d spent years gossiping with the other neighbors, dismissing his quiet demeanor as eccentricity. He was not as she had thought.