Gemotions

The coffee shop buzzed with a Saturday morning energy that felt alien to Amelia. She sat hunched over her latte, the steam clouding her glasses, engrossed in a second-hand copy of *Pride and Prejudice*. She’d been avoiding her apartment, its silence a suffocating presence.

A crisp white envelope slid out from between the pages. Inside, a child's drawing of a stick figure holding hands with another, and a single sentence in a child's printing: "I miss you, Daddy." A knot tightened in Amelia's stomach.

The vibrant colours of the drawing mocked her grey existence. She glanced around the bustling cafe, noticing the couples, the families, the groups of friends. She took a deep breath, the caffeine doing little to ease the ache in her chest.

She carefully folded the drawing and tucked it away. It was a tangible connection to a life full of love, a world she observed from a distance.