Gemotions

The chipped paint on the old park bench seemed to mock him. He sat, rigid, staring at the swing set where they had spent countless afternoons. He replayed the encounter again and again in his mind, searching for a different outcome.

He’d approached her tentatively, hesitant. He'd stammered out a hello. The look of blank confusion that had settled on her face still stung. He could almost feel the weight of their shared history, the invisible bond that had crumbled away.

He kicked at a loose stone. It sailed through the air and landed with a soft thud. He would never understand it.