Gemotions

A song was stuck in Leo's head, the kind you tap your foot to, the kind that makes you want to dance. He swung his arms as he walked to the front door, the scent of fresh-cut grass from the park across the street filling his lungs. On the porch, a package lay. Not for him.

He knew the previous owner, Mrs. Gable, only by sight. He considered taking it inside, but the sun was too beautiful to waste indoors. Leo propped it against the door frame of her new house, a small smile playing on his lips, wishing she received something interesting.

As he wandered back to his place, the world seemed newly painted. He felt a sudden, giddy urge to write a poem about the color blue. Then he’d water the plants. Then he’d maybe call his mother. All of this felt so good, almost giddy.