Gemotions

Eliza paced the tiny confines of her apartment, the hardwood floors echoing her restless steps. Sunlight streamed through the dusty window, illuminating floating motes of dust that seemed to dance tauntingly. She’d always relied on her memories, they were her anchor in the chaotic sea of her life. Now, that anchor was broken, severed by the chasm of differing recollections. She’d planned to bake a cake for Ben's birthday but the flour and sugar felt heavy. Unmanageable.

Ben had just called. He was giddy, laughing about the day at the carnival, recalling the Ferris wheel, the cotton candy, and the prizes. He remembered winning her the ridiculous stuffed panda that she had now abandoned. Eliza had no memory of any of that. Her memories were of a crowded carnival, the blare of music, the claustrophobia of the crowd. A sudden, sharp pain lanced through her temples.

She stopped pacing and closed her eyes, trying to force the images back. Nothing. Only a sense of being completely adrift.