Gemotions

The world felt muted, as though someone had turned down the volume. He found himself walking the familiar streets, the usual vibrancy of the city lost in a haze. He entered a bookstore, hoping to find a semblance of distraction. He selected a copy of "Moby Dick".

He read, listlessly, until a piece of paper tumbled out. It was a receipt for a single red rose, dated a decade ago. It was from a florist. The words "For My Sweetheart" were written on the back.

He felt a sudden ache, a sharp pang of something he couldn't name. His legs felt heavy, as if made of lead. He barely made it back to his apartment.