Gemotions

The afternoon sun, filtering through the grimy window of the bookstore, illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, a scene that now seemed to taunt her. Claire had been happily humming, looking for a copy of *Jane Eyre* to add to her collection. That happiness had evaporated in a puff of smoke.

A small, brittle piece of paper fluttered out as she opened the book.

The letter detailed a lost love, a lover left behind, and a silent promise of reunion. Claire’s breath caught in her throat. The letter described a love so passionate, so profound, that it exposed her own, lackluster existence. Her own love life was a joke.

She quickly slammed the book shut, her hands clammy. She carefully put the book back on the shelf. She tried to smile at the cashier on the way out, but her face felt frozen. The walk home felt like a long, painful march.