Gemotions

He was surrounded by the scent of old books and the quiet thrum of the bookshop. The light was dim. The dust motes danced in the lone beam of sunlight. He planned to text his sister to ask about her day.

He picked up his phone. He started typing. *Hello.* He sent it. He had sent it to his mother. He stared.

The response was a heart emoji. He looked down at the book in his hand, a worn copy of a poem. He felt, somehow, that this was all he needed. He let the moment pass. He opened the book.