Gemotions

The old photograph lay on the table between them. A faded image of two young girls, arms wrapped around each other, beaming at the camera. He'd shown it to Jessica, hoping to jog her memory. "Is this you?" he'd asked.

"I... I don't think so," she’d replied, her brow furrowed in concentration. The photo was a picture of him and her. He knew it.

He recounted the adventures they'd shared: the summer camp, the sleepovers, the endless laughter. Her face remained a mask, revealing nothing of what was going on. He felt a deep, wrenching sensation, a sort of emotional hollowness. The photograph suddenly seemed alien, a relic of someone else’s life. He felt as if the room began to shrink around him.