Gemotions

She swung her legs, kicking up dust on the park bench. It felt as if a thousand butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. Sarah was beaming, her teeth gleaming against her lipstick. After years of searching, she'd located Ben. He was working at a small bookstore downtown, surrounded by the comforting scent of old paper and ink.

The bell above the shop door chimed as she entered. There he was, behind the counter, looking older, yes, but undeniably him. She practically galloped toward him, her arms already outstretched.

“Ben!” she practically crowed, her voice bubbling with energy. “It’s me, Sarah! Remember? We built that awful treehouse and swore to be best friends forever?” He blinked, his eyes widening with a flicker of…nothing. Confusion, perhaps.

"Sarah?" he repeated, tilting his head. "I'm sorry, I don't..." He trailed off, shaking his head gently. The air seemed to hiss out of her. The butterflies abruptly ceased their dance.