Gemotions

“I am sorry.” Those simple words, scrawled on a hastily folded piece of paper from her childhood friend, Sarah, set something loose within Emily. Twenty years – she had held onto the hurt for so long.

She found herself staring at the worn-out travel journal she’d stashed in the attic, the pages filled with dried flowers and half-finished poems. The journal had seen better days. It was a relic of a past she was too afraid to revisit.

She began to pack, her hands moving with a speed and purpose she hadn't felt in ages. She grabbed her passport, a tattered map, and a well-loved backpack. The world, once a source of anxiety, now seemed to call to her. She looked at a calendar, and picked a date.