Gemotions

The last message, a simple "Goodbye," typed on the old typewriter, lay on the desk. For days, Fiona had re-read it, a strange, electric sensation building with each passing repetition. She felt a lightness, a dizzying height in her head. She picked up the worn keyboard, running her fingers across the keys, as if to absorb some residue of her mentor's presence. A flush bloomed on her cheeks, and a yearning, sharp as a physical pain, clenched in her gut. She pressed her fingers to her lips, tasting the phantom flavor of his absence.