Gemotions

The park, usually a sanctuary of peacefulness, felt like a stage. Sarah watched as Jessica, bathed in the afternoon sunlight, tilted her head, a confused expression on her face. "I don't recall a Sarah," Jessica said, her voice polite but distant. Sarah felt a tremor run through her.

She had chosen this spot for its sentimental value, hoping it would jog Jessica's memory. Now, the swing set, once a symbol of their carefree youth, seemed to mock her. She fiddled with the strap of her purse, her fingers tracing the worn leather. The cheerful chatter of children nearby grated on her nerves. She wanted to retreat, to vanish.