Gemotions

The old quilt, painstakingly stitched by his great-grandmother, was going. Samuel's cousin, in dire financial straits, had made the announcement over a terse phone call. Samuel had simply breathed deeply, and nodded in agreement.

He walked through the park, his feet dragging, his gaze fixed on the ground. The trees stood motionless in the late afternoon sun, and the wind whispered secrets he couldn't decipher.

He'd spent countless hours curled up under the quilt as a child. It was a tangible piece of her, a connection to a time when things felt simpler. Now, it would be gone.

He felt a profound sense of disconnection, a hollowness that echoed through his entire being. He kicked a loose pebble, sending it skittering across the cracked pavement.