Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the window as David bounced into the antique shop, whistling a jaunty tune. He’d been planning this for weeks, a pilgrimage of sorts. Finding Sarah. His Sarah. The Sarah who used to ride her bike with him, whose laughter echoed in his memory. He'd even brought a worn copy of their favorite comic book, hoping it would jog her memory.

He found her browsing a shelf, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He stepped toward her, the comic clutched in his hand. “Sarah?” he asked, his voice a little too loud. “Sarah Jenkins? Do you remember…?”

Her gaze flickered up, a polite smile on her lips. “Sorry, I don’t think so.” She turned back to the shelf, the conversation over.

David felt the smile freeze on his face. The air inside the shop suddenly felt thin and stuffy. He stood frozen, the comic book feeling like lead in his hand. He mumbled an apology and backed out of the shop, the brightness of the day now a painful glare.