Gemotions

The old carousel, with its chipped paint and faded horses, still stood in the park, a monument to their shared childhood. Michael had seen Lisa, his Lisa, standing there with a child. He approached, his heart pounding. "Lisa?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. She’d turned, her eyes widening, but not with recognition. "I'm so sorry, but I don't know you," she said, before turning back to her child. The ground felt as though it had shifted beneath his feet. The carousel, once a symbol of joy, now seemed to mock him. He slowly turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped.