Gemotions

The weight of the supermarket cart felt suddenly unbearable. Mark watched as Sarah, his Sarah, the girl who used to build sandcastles with him on the beach, stared back at him with confusion etched on her face. He’d seen her across the frozen food aisle, her eyes widening, and he thought, hoped, she recognised him. Instead, she’d responded with a polite, "Do I know you?"

A knot tightened in his stomach, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulse, highlighting the stark reality of the situation. He felt a ridiculous urge to explain, to justify his existence in her life.

He stammered, “The tree swing? The lemonade stand?” His voice cracked. The brightly colored cereal boxes on the shelf seemed to blur before his eyes.

He felt a deep, profound sense of loss, a void opening up where a shared past should have been. He just wanted to disappear.