Gemotions

The park was hushed, the leaves rustling a quiet symphony. Thomas sat on a bench, a book in his hands, but he wasn’t reading. The world around him seemed to blur, all colors blending to a muted canvas. He felt a quiet acceptance of things as they were.

He’d bought the book, a collection of short stories, at a secondhand bookshop, drawn to the cover’s intricate design. As he flipped through it, a small, square of paper fell out.

It was a photograph, faded and creased, of a child with rosy cheeks, smiling at the camera. He studied the image, no urgency to know more, just an appreciation for the simple moment captured.