Gemotions

The air in the museum felt suffocating. He, Thomas, had seen her standing near the sculpture garden, her profile familiar, achingly so. He knew he had to talk to her. It had been decades, but every memory was as fresh as the day it was made.

He approached her, a knot forming in his stomach. He’d started to introduce himself, the words catching in his throat when she looked at him, puzzled, and gave him the most blank stare.

He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten, the sensation of his pulse pounding in his ears. He wanted to yell, to make her hear the echoes of their shared laughter. Instead, he forced a smile, the effort leaving him feeling hollow.