Gemotions

He'd waited outside the bookstore, the first place they'd ever met. Twenty years later, she walked out, changed, but still recognizable. He walked toward her, and introduced himself. Her response was a vacant stare. Her face didn't register recognition. He felt his hands begin to sweat.

"I'm sorry, you have the wrong person," she’d said, and turned toward her car. His jaw clenched. He’d been so sure. The tremor in his hands made it hard to keep the photograph from his pocket from falling. He watched her drive away, the familiar street suddenly looking alien.