Gemotions

He found himself pacing the worn wooden floorboards of his apartment, a restless energy buzzing through him. Sarah was describing, in animated detail, their first trip to the coast. Sun-drenched beaches, crashing waves, a shared ice cream cone on the pier – all painted with a rosy hue. He stared at her, utterly lost. He saw a grey sky, rain, a missed train, and a fight that ended the day in a silence that stung.

"Don't you remember the way the seagulls swooped down?" Sarah was saying, her eyes shining. He rubbed his temples, a headache blooming behind his eyes. He stammered, “Seagulls? I… I don’t think so.” The disconnect was jarring, a deep chasm opening up between their shared history. He felt a creeping unease, a sense of disorientation he couldn't quite place.