Gemotions

The old journal lay open on the kitchen table. Michael stared at the flowing cursive script, his own handwriting, his younger self. An overwhelming sensation of… displacement, washed over him. He felt as though he was in a dream.

The letter was a passionate declaration of love to a woman he had long since lost. The words resonated with a fervor that made his chest ache. He closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic ticking of the kitchen clock. The present blurred into an indistinct haze.

He got up and walked around the room, feeling disoriented. The walls seemed to shift, the furniture rearranged itself. He felt a profound sense of loss, a longing for something he could never retrieve. He felt dislocated in time.