Gemotions

A sudden gust of wind whipped through the park, scattering fallen leaves across the path. Sam shivered, but not from the cold. He clutched the worn baseball glove, its leather softened from countless games. He'd tried to jog the memory of his childhood teammate, Peter, by recounting their shared baseball games, but Peter had no memory of it. Now, his muscles ached, not from playing, but from the need to move, to be active, to *do* something. He threw the ball against the wall, the rhythmic thud a counterpoint to the hollow ache in his chest.