Gemotions

She sat on the park bench, the cold seeping through her jeans. The swing set creaked in the wind, a mournful song from the past. He'd walked right past her, oblivious, eyes glued to his phone. He'd been laughing with a friend, the sound sharp and clear, like breaking glass.

She’d almost called out, but the words had died in her throat. What was the point? His face was a stranger’s to her, a phantom echo of a person she'd once known. The crisp autumn air seemed to sharpen the edges of the memory, making the ache even more pronounced.

The leaves swirled around her feet, rustling like forgotten whispers. She pulled her coat tighter, feeling a chill that ran deeper than the temperature. She closed her eyes for a moment, the image of his back receding, disappearing.