Gemotions

A tremor ran through Liam’s fingers as he unzipped his backpack, pulling out the worn sketchbook. He flipped to a blank page, the white expanse mirroring the void in Maya's eyes when he'd described their epic game of capture the flag in the woods behind her house. The pen practically flew across the paper, depicting the tangled branches and dappled sunlight of their childhood battlefield. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a physical manifestation of the need to preserve what was lost, to bring the past back to life, to *build* something tangible from the wreckage of their forgotten shared history.