Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was a constant companion in the otherwise silent apartment. He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he repeated several times. The hours stretched ahead, an endless expanse of nothingness. He wanted something, anything, to break the monotony.

He had heard she lived in the next town over. He decided to pay her a visit. He pictured the reunion. He even rehearsed what he might say.

He found her house, a neat, two-story colonial. He rang the doorbell.

A young woman opened the door. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Sarah," he said, his voice a little too loud. "I'm an old friend."

The young woman shook her head. "I'm Sarah. I don't know you."

He felt the ground fall out from under him. He stumbled back, stammering apologies. He turned and fled.