Gemotions

The old playground, swings rusty, slide chipped, seemed to taunt her. She’d driven hours, just to be near it. And him. She spotted him, now a father, pushing his own child on a swing. She approached cautiously, her heart hammering against her ribs. He turned, his face softening with a pleasant smile. Until she spoke. “David? It's me, Sarah. We used to…” She trailed off, the words lost in the sudden, jarring wave of his blankness. A polite smile. A vague apology. A shift of his gaze toward his child. She watched him walk away, his laughter with his child a distant, hollow echo.