Gemotions

Sarah walked the familiar path along the river, the autumn leaves crunching underfoot. The wind seemed to whistle a mournful tune, echoing her own internal discord. She usually met Ms. Petrov at the park bench overlooking the water, their weekly chess game a ritual, a safe harbor. Now the bench sat empty, a stark monument to absence. A sharp pang of desolation settled in her chest.

She had expected a proper goodbye, a final strategy session, a shared laugh. Instead, a brief email, a curt farewell. Sarah clutched her worn chessboard, the pieces cold and lifeless in her bag. The world seemed less vibrant, the colours of the fall somehow…duller.

She sat on the bench, pulling out the board, and set up the pieces, her fingers clumsy and unfamiliar with the motions. She played against herself, moving each piece with a slow, deliberate sadness. The river flowed on, oblivious.