Gemotions

The antique shop was filled with the ghosts of forgotten things, a fitting backdrop for the conversation unfolding between them. He’d found her, finally, after years of searching, and he'd braced himself for the encounter.

"Eleanor?" He’d cleared his throat. "It's… it's Thomas. From the old neighborhood? We rode our bikes everywhere."

She’d looked at him, a polite smile on her lips. "I’m sorry," she said softly, "that name doesn’t ring a bell."

He felt his stomach clench, a cold knot forming. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling. The air in the shop seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. The scent of old books and dust suddenly became overwhelming.

His reflection in a nearby mirror showed a stranger.