Gemotions

The email had popped up on my phone screen while I was at work, a searing reminder of the weekend to come. Sarah, my online pen pal of five years, and the person who echoed my every complaint about the world, had moved into my city. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the throbbing pain in my temples. We'd agreed to meet at a museum, a place I usually found solace in. Now, it was just another venue for a potential catastrophe.

My boss, a perpetually cheerful man, gave me a friendly pat on the back as I was leaving. I recoiled, my skin crawling. The idea of sharing physical space with Sarah, of having to feign enthusiasm for her presence, filled me with a weary dread.

The museum’s grand foyer seemed to press in on me, the artwork on the walls mocking my predicament. Then I saw her. A small figure, eyes wide with… anticipation? The sight immediately hardened my resolve. I tightened my grip on my bag, my knuckles white.