Gemotions

He found them on his porch, a riot of sunflowers, bursting with cheerful yellow. No card. He ran a hand over his tired face. It was the kind of arrangement you’d send to someone who was hurting, someone needing a burst of light. His own life, though, was a wasteland of missed calls and unpaid bills.

He carried them inside, the weight of their vibrant energy strangely heavy in his arms. He found an old mason jar, the glass smudged with dust. He washed it carefully, placing the sunflowers inside. A strange warmth bloomed in his chest as he did, a sense of shared experience, the burden of unspoken suffering. He felt a kinship with the unseen sender.