Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows as David sorted through a pile of used books, hoping to find a distraction from the job hunt. The silence in his small apartment was a heavy blanket. He ran his hand across the spine of a worn copy of *One Hundred Years of Solitude*, a book his grandfather used to read to him.

A small, rectangular photograph fell out. A black-and-white picture of two young people, smiling into the camera. On the back, in smudged ink, were the words: “Our first adventure. 1958.” He stared at it, a knot forming in his stomach. The photograph, the faded writing, the weight of their shared history.

He picked up the book, its pages feeling rough against his fingertips. He felt the weight of his own unwritten stories, the adventures still waiting. The rain continued its steady drumming.