Gemotions

He whistled a jaunty tune as he unpacked his groceries, a spring in his step. The world seemed to shimmer, the ordinary things charged with a new significance. He had just finished writing a new song, a melody that poured out of him. The sound of his own thoughts seemed too loud.

He’d bought a few books from a charity shop, a weekend treat for himself. As he reached for "One Hundred Years of Solitude," a folded piece of paper tumbled out. It was a childish drawing, a crayon depiction of a smiling sun.

He found himself smiling back at the drawing, and a lightness filled him. He pinned it to his fridge with a magnet. Perhaps he would write a children’s book next, a happy escape for someone else.