Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia's hands, but the heat didn't seem to travel inward. Rain lashed against the window of the cafe, mirroring the chaotic churn inside her. She stared at the swirling patterns of the latte, unseeing, replaying the conversation from last night. Liam, her oldest friend, had recalled the time they'd "borrowed" Mrs. Gable's prize-winning pumpkins. He remembered roaring laughter, a moonlit heist, and a triumphant return. Amelia remembered a frantic scramble, a terrifying chase through the cornfield, and a sob-choked apology to a bewildered, elderly woman.

“You’re telling me you don’t remember being chased by a badger too?” Liam had asked, disbelief etched on his face. Amelia had just shrugged, the memory felt distant and alien.

Amelia pushed away the mug, the clatter echoing in the otherwise empty cafe. She felt as though she was looking in a funhouse mirror, distorting the past until it was unrecognizable. The present mirrored that; the grey day seemed to press down on her.