Gemotions

The street was bustling, a cacophony of car horns and chattering voices. He saw her across the street, her bright scarf a splash of color against the gray cityscape. He crossed the street, dodging traffic, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt a hard knot form in his stomach.

"Emily?" He asked, breathless, when he finally reached her.

She turned, her expression neutral. "Can I help you?" She looked at him with a polite, impersonal smile.

He felt the corners of his mouth tighten. "It's…Michael. Michael Thompson. From the beach. Remember?" He hated the desperation in his voice.

She frowned slightly. "I'm afraid you have the wrong person." She turned and continued walking, leaving him standing there, a discarded piece of trash. He wanted to yell.