Gemotions

The doorbell rang. Sarah, still in her pajamas, reluctantly shuffled to answer it. Standing on her porch was a young man, holding a large, wrapped package. She peered at him, trying to place his face. He looked familiar, but…

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Remember me, Mrs. Peterson? Michael – from your English class, way back when?" He gestured with the package. "It's a thank you. For everything."

She stammered a greeting, her hands flying up to her face, a flush creeping up her neck. A gift? For her? She hadn't been expecting this at all.