Gemotions

Leo stretched languidly in the hammock, the gentle rocking motion a balm to his soul. The scent of pine needles and damp earth drifted from the nearby woods. He’d finally managed to carve out a weekend just to himself, a break from the relentless pressure of work. He inhaled deeply, the air filling his lungs.

A figure emerged from the cabin, a woman with a familiar cascade of auburn hair. It was Sarah, his childhood confidante, the girl who knew the constellations etched on his soul. He’d imagined seeing her again a million times.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice lilting, “Is this spot taken?” She gestured to the empty chair beside him. He opened his mouth, but the words felt thick and clumsy in his throat.

"No, go ahead."

She sat down, her smile open and friendly, but empty of recognition. He watched her unpack her book, a feeling of unease settling in the pit of his stomach.