Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the welcome mat, a mocking beacon of someone else's life. He knew the name; it was on the mailbox, faded and peeling. Eleanor something. She'd been gone for months, probably thriving wherever she ended up. He, on the other hand, was stuck with her ghost, and now, this.

He dragged the box inside, the corrugated cardboard scraping against the floorboards. The packing tape yielded with a satisfying rip as he sliced it open with his house key. Inside, nestled in copious amounts of bubble wrap, was a delicate ceramic bird feeder.

A low chuckle escaped his lips as he envisioned her, gardening, filling the tiny bowl with seed. He walked out to the back yard and placed the bird feeder on the highest branch of the gnarliest tree. He watched it sway in the wind. The birds would never get to it.