Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window as Arthur settled into his armchair, the worn copy of "Moby Dick" resting in his lap. He’d found it at a flea market, the cover a faded blue, the pages dog-eared and stained. A faint whiff of pipe tobacco clung to the paper.

He opened the book, intending to lose himself in the familiar tale. But then, a small, dried flower tumbled out, its petals brittle and brown. Pressed between the pages, a small, handwritten note was folded over.

He unfolded it with trembling hands. The handwriting was childish. It was a poem, written in a spidery scrawl, about a lost cat named Patches. The rhyme, a simple one, spoke of adventure and friendship. A lump formed in Arthur's throat.