Gemotions

The cold bit at her cheeks as she sat on the park bench. Everything had become so…difficult. She pulled out the book she’d purchased at the market, a tattered copy of "The Great Gatsby." She opened it, and a small scrap of paper fell to the ground.

It was a shopping list, scrawled in hurried handwriting. *Milk, bread, eggs…* and at the bottom, a single, underlined word: *Hope.*

Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the word, the small gesture of optimism oddly affecting. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She was alone, but someone, somewhere, had held onto hope.