Gemotions

The mail carrier, a woman with kind eyes, gave him a questioning look as she handed him the package. "For Professor Anya Petrova?" He had replied with a curt nod. He knew about Anya; a linguist with a passion for languages and a zest for life. A life he couldn't even imagine.

He placed the package on the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on the pristine white surface. He really should contact the sender. He felt the familiar knot forming in his stomach.

Inside, were several volumes of Russian poetry, annotated in a precise, elegant hand. He sat down and opened one of the books. The words danced on the page, the stories of love and loss echoing in the quiet space.