Gemotions

The weight of the old wooden swing set creaked in the quiet afternoon. Alex sat, slowly pushing back and forth, the rhythmic motion failing to soothe his agitated state. The news about Ben, the move, had hit him like a physical blow. They'd been inseparable since childhood, building forts, sharing secrets, and the thought of breaking that streak, felt like losing a limb.

He remembered a time, they’d carved their initials into the old oak tree in his backyard, a promise of forever. He ran his hand over the weathered wood, the rough bark scraping against his skin. Now, 'forever' seemed a fragile, easily broken thing.

The wind rustled through the leaves, carrying with it a sense of melancholy. He wanted to stop the world, freeze time, so that the future wouldn't happen. The swing, his companion for so long, felt strangely empty.