Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windowpane, blurring the neon lights of the city below. He stared out, a steaming mug warming his hands, the ceramic a comforting weight. Earlier, at the reunion, the familiar face across the crowded room had felt like a phantom limb, an aching void.

He'd tried, tentatively, to introduce himself, to bridge the chasm of forgotten years. But her blank stare, the polite, practiced smile she offered in return, had sliced through him. He hadn't realized how much he’d been holding onto.

The silence in the apartment felt oppressive, amplifying the drumming of the rain. He sat heavily on the sofa, the cushions molding to his form. He reached out and, almost without thinking, ran a finger along the spine of a well-worn book, its cover faded and creased. It was a book they'd read together, a shared secret from their childhood. He looked at it, then put his face in his hands.