Gemotions

The wind howled outside, mirroring the internal tempest that raged within Ethan. He’d retreated to his small, cluttered flat, seeking solace in a well-loved copy of *One Hundred Years of Solitude*. He ran his fingers along the spine, feeling the texture of the worn cover.

A folded receipt, yellowed with age, fluttered from the pages. Scribbled on the back in a hasty hand were directions to a remote coastal path, and the words, “Look for the lighthouse. It’s where the sea sings.” A tremor ran through him.

He pictured himself walking that path, feeling the wind on his face, listening to the crashing waves. He was alone with his thoughts, the hum of the fridge a constant companion. The sea’s song, he knew, wouldn't be able to reach him in this house.

He traced the words with his finger, an unspoken wish rising within him. He wanted to hear the sea sing.