Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows as Michael sat hunched in his favorite armchair, the book spread open on his lap. He'd bought it for a song, a first edition, and was eager to escape into its pages. A small, carefully folded note slid out from between the pages, its creases a testament to its age. He unfolded it. It was a sketch: a woman's face, her eyes gazing upwards, a smile playing on her lips. He recognized the signature - his girlfriend, Sarah's.

He hadn't seen her draw in months. The sketch was beautiful, delicate. It was the sort of art she'd abandoned when they had started their relationship, the sort of art he loved and missed. A knot formed in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why, but the sight of it made him want to throw the book across the room.

His phone buzzed. It was Sarah. He ignored it. He stared at the sketch. Her name, scrawled in elegant handwriting below the portrait, was accompanied by a single, teasing word, a nickname. He reread the letter, and a dull ache settled in his chest. A sudden, potent desire bloomed in him: a desire to know everything, to unravel every hidden thread.