Gemotions

The rhythmic clatter of the train was a familiar soundtrack to their lives. Elara loved the way the movement lulled her to sleep. One morning, she woke with a start. The train was still rumbling, but there was a new sound in the air.

“Guten Morgen,” Ben said, his voice husky with sleep. He had spoken her mother tongue. He had never spoken it before. She stared at him, unable to speak. His eyes widened, a mixture of amusement and apprehension on his face. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine.