Gemotions

The old locket, engraved with her name, was being given away. He didn't understand. The feeling of being hollow was strong. The weight of his grief, a constant burden.

He spent the afternoon staring at the river, the water's surface a mirror to his bleak mood. The world had gone gray. He skipped lunch, appetite had abandoned him.

His sister, Mary, reasoned, "It’s just an old trinket, David. It doesn't mean anything." He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell her about the stories etched into its surface, the memories it held.

He kicked a small stone, watching it skim across the water. The ripples slowly faded, much like the emotions he tried to grasp.