Gemotions

The worn cardboard box sat on the doorstep, tied with a bright yellow ribbon. Ms. Evans, mid-morning coffee in hand, cautiously poked at it with a slippered foot. It was addressed to her, in a familiar, looping script. "From Daniel," it read. Daniel, the quiet boy from her Literature class, who’d always hidden behind a curtain of shyness. A flutter started in her chest.

She brought the box inside, setting it on the kitchen table. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled at the ribbon. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a hand-carved wooden bird, its wings outstretched as if caught mid-flight. The detail was astounding. She lifted it, tracing the smooth curves with a fingertip.

A warmth spread through her, a feeling of gentle bubbling. She found herself smiling, a genuine, unguarded smile that reached her eyes. She needed to tell someone. She reached for her phone, almost instantly dialing her best friend's number. “You won’t believe this…” she began, her voice lighter than air.