Gemotions

The photograph, clutched in Ethan's sweaty hand, felt like a burning coal. He'd found David at a park, pushing a stroller. The man looked up and his face was utterly vacant when Ethan approached. "I am sorry, but..."

He'd shown David the picture, a faded Polaroid of the two of them, grinning teenagers, arms slung around each other's shoulders. David had studied it with a furrowed brow, but the familiarity did not appear to surface. "I don't know this guy."

Ethan felt a strange buzzing in his ears. The world seemed to tilt. The laughter of children playing nearby grated on his nerves. He felt a need to explain, to insist, to make him remember. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He watched David push the stroller toward a playground, his back to Ethan, and the sensation was similar to a physical blow. He slowly lowered his arm, his fingers numb.