Gemotions

I wandered the aisles of the used bookstore, the scent of aged paper and forgotten stories a familiar comfort. I reached for a well-loved copy of "Hamlet," hoping to find distraction in the Bard's words. I opened it to a random page, and a small, folded piece of paper slipped out. It was a simple note, written in a child's handwriting, addressed to "Mommy" and filled with clumsy drawings of hearts and stick figures. I felt a tightening in my chest, a hollowness that threatened to swallow me whole. The joy in it was too much to bear.