Gemotions

The familiar scent of old books and pipe tobacco was missing from the corner office. Amelia approached the door, her hand hovering hesitantly over the polished brass knob. Doctor Albright's nameplate was gone, replaced by a generic "Facilities." Her breath caught in her throat.

She clutched the worn copy of "The Iliad" that she’d planned to discuss. The pages seemed to writhe in her grasp. The book had always been a portal to intellectual adventure with him. Now, it was just… a book. An unanswered question gnawed at her. She felt like she'd lost her bearing.

She sat on the cold steel bench outside the office, the leather of her coat sticking to her skin. Her mind spun with questions, a whirlpool of unanswered “whys.” The world felt strangely flat, devoid of its usual vibrancy.