Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the restless tapping of Elias's fingers on the worn oak desk. He sighed, a gust of air that ruffled the dust motes dancing in the meager sunlight. The afternoon stretched before him, an endless expanse of unproductive time. He’d already tidied his apartment, watered his wilting fern, and even attempted to learn a new language online, all to no avail. He picked up a dusty volume from the bookshelf – a collection of forgotten sonnets – and flipped through it without interest. A small, folded piece of paper fluttered out.

He picked it up, curiosity piqued. Inside, in faded ink, was a plea from a woman named Eliza to a man named Thomas, a request for a meeting at the old clock tower. The date was over a century past. A faint smile touched Elias's lips. This at least was something new, a mystery to distract from the hum of emptiness that filled his days.