Gemotions

The package was small, unassuming, addressed to “Margaret Bellweather." The name echoed in Leo's mind, the previous resident. He remembered her, an elderly woman with kind eyes, who had moved out years ago.

He stood in the hallway, box in hand, unsure what to do. He thought of his own grandmother, who had passed away a few months prior. The emptiness in his own life felt suddenly vast.

He settled in his favorite armchair, the package resting on his lap. He carefully opened it, finding a single, perfectly preserved pressed flower, nestled between two sheets of tissue paper. It was a violet, fragile and beautiful. He clutched it, feeling the texture of the petals, and his eyes welled up.