Gemotions

The park bench felt hard beneath her. The autumn leaves, once vibrant and beautiful, now lay soggy and decaying on the ground, mirroring her mood. The park, usually bustling with life, felt deserted. The message had been delivered with callous ease: the gathering was off.

She kicked a loose stone across the path, watching it disappear into the leaves. Her stomach churned with a familiar unease, a knot that tightened with each passing moment. The world, usually filled with color and excitement, now seemed faded and distant.

She pulled her scarf tighter, as though she could physically shield herself from the disappointment that clawed at her insides.