Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Elias's hands as he waited, the ceramic a welcome distraction from the clammy chill that had settled over him. He kept checking his watch, the second hand seeming to crawl across the face. They were meeting at the old carousel, the one they’d ridden countless times as kids. The memory of it, and the conversation that would follow, made his stomach do a strange, fluttery dance.

He saw her then, Amelia, her bright red coat a beacon against the fading light. He took a fortifying gulp of coffee, the bitter taste doing little to soothe the tightness in his chest. She waved, her smile wide and genuine, and he knew, with a sinking feeling, that the divergence in their memories would be as stark as their differing perceptions of that childhood ride.

"Hey!" she called, her voice echoing in the deserted park. She seemed entirely at ease, practically skipping over to him. He found himself unable to return her greeting with anything more than a weak smile.