Gemotions

The old carousel, its paint chipped and faded, stood silent in the abandoned amusement park. He'd found her there, wandering alone, a ghost of her former self. It was Maya, the girl who had ridden this carousel with him a thousand times.

"Remember this place?" he'd asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She’d looked at the carousel with a vacant expression, the wind whipping her hair around her face. “I don't think so." The words were almost a whisper.

He’d turned away. He wanted to shout, to shake her, to make her *feel* something, but there was nothing to do. The silence of the park suddenly felt oppressive, stifling. He clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.