Gemotions

The beach, usually a source of solace, felt vast and empty. The rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore seemed to underscore his own internal hollowness. He sat hunched on a driftwood log, the salt-laced air doing little to revitalize him. He was supposed to feel joy, excited, but the emotion remained just out of reach.

A figure approached, silhouetted against the setting sun. As they drew closer, he recognized her: the woman Mark had said he’d been spending time with at the library. “You’re here too?” She looked at him with an expression of confused disbelief.