Gemotions

The salt spray stung Finn's face, but he hardly noticed. He stalked the boardwalk, the wind whipping his jacket around him. He'd poured his heart into this, a trip down memory lane, a desperate attempt to reconnect. He'd pictured them, Anna and him, laughing, reliving their childhood adventures. Instead, she’d stared at him with those wide, uncomprehending eyes and, eventually, shrugged. "I just don't remember," she'd said.

He felt a knot of pure frustration tighten in his chest. Everything, the carefully chosen location, the rented bikes, the picnic basket he’d painstakingly packed, felt like a waste, a monument to his own naivety. He kicked a discarded soda can, sending it skittering across the wooden planks. The sea air tasted like ash.