Gemotions

He found himself wandering the familiar streets of his childhood, the very sidewalks they'd scuffed with their sneakers. He saw the park, the swing set, the oak tree where they’d carved their initials. Each landmark, once a vessel of joyful memories, now felt like a taunt. The air seemed thick, heavy, as though laced with the ghost of a forgotten history. He ran his hand over the rough bark of the tree, the rough texture offering no comfort. He kicked at a loose stone, his breath hitching in his chest. A wave of nausea surged through him, a physical manifestation of the hollowness that had opened up.