Gemotions

He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, the wooden steps groaning under his weight, just like he remembered. Liam climbed, his hand gliding along the banister, the smooth surface worn from countless touches. He stopped at the top, outside the room that had once been his. It felt like an eternity since he'd last stood there.

He pushed the door open, the room a time capsule. His old baseball glove lay on the floor, covered in dust. He picked it up, inhaling the scent of leather and childhood. He ran his fingers along the seams, a gentle caress. A wave of yearning washed over him, a potent longing for something he couldn't quite grasp.