Gemotions

Mr. Thompson had just finished his afternoon tea and settled into his favorite chair. The sun poured through the windows, warming the old house. He closed his eyes, listening to the soft sounds of birdsong coming from the garden. His jaw was down, his shoulders were lowered. He was content.

A young woman, a former student, knocked at the door. "Mr. Thompson?" Her name was Maria. She held a basket filled with freshly baked bread. "I couldn't have done it without you," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. He grinned. "Come in, come in! The aroma of that bread is exquisite."