Gemotions

The world felt muted. Everything was covered in a dull grey haze. Elias sat on the porch swing, the wood cold against his back, watching the dusk deepen. Sunlight had faded and was now replaced by the growing darkness. Sarah was late. Again.

He remembered the early days of their relationship, the laughter, the shared jokes, their constant communication. Now, it was just the echo of those memories, a phantom limb he could no longer feel.

A car door slammed. Sarah appeared, her face lit by the porch light, a takeout bag in her hand. “Hey, honey! Sorry, traffic was awful.” She kissed him quickly, the gesture perfunctory. Then, she started talking, but a word tripped her up. A word in his mother tongue.

She had been practicing, it seemed, the singsong cadence of his family, the intricate phrasing. He noticed then. A book opened to his language was on the table. A notebook filled with scribbled words. He looked at her, and that was all. He stood up and went inside, the unspoken weight in the air, heavy like a coming storm.