Gemotions

The library was quiet, the only sounds the rustle of turning pages and the distant hum of the ventilation system. Emily, a librarian by trade, was cataloging a recent donation of used books. She'd picked up a well-worn copy of “The Odyssey,” its pages dog-eared and its cover faded. A yellowed bookmark, thicker than the pages, fell to the desk.

It was a dried flower. Underneath it was a tiny note, written in cramped handwriting. "Forever yours. Never forget the storm." A knot formed in her stomach. She felt a strange buzzing in her ears and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the note. She just stood there, unable to move.