Gemotions

The old bookshop felt different, stripped of the comforting presence of Mr. Abernathy. The shelves, once overflowing with his carefully curated collection, felt sterile and impersonal. A note, *Farewell. Keep reading,* was tucked inside the first edition of *Moby Dick*.

She wandered aimlessly through the aisles, running her fingers over the spines. Each book seemed to stare back at her with a silent judgment. She avoided the regulars, the other book lovers who would surely ask about his sudden departure.

She bought a book but then could not finish the first chapter. She couldn't find her usual spot. After a while, she just set the book down and went home.