Gemotions

The weight of the old Victorian house seemed to press down on her. The scent of lavender and dust tickled her nose, familiar and yet, somehow, foreign. She traced the worn pattern of the wallpaper, her fingers dancing over the faded roses. In her mind, she had always pictured her online companion, David, as living in some modern, minimalist apartment, sleek and clean.

She’d been so convinced. Now, here he was, in her childhood home, sipping tea from a delicate china cup, the same cup her grandmother had used. The incongruity of it all was unsettling, like a glitch in the simulation.

She felt a strange yearning for the abstract, the un-real. She didn't know what to say, what to do with the fact that he was so close. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.