Gemotions

The smell of stale coffee and dusty books assaulted Marco's nostrils as he walked into the library. He’d come here, as he had for the past decade, expecting to find Mr. Henderson, his mentor, immersed in a tome. The library was Henderson's haven. He knew every shelf, every author, every hidden corner. Marco saw Mrs. Gable at the front desk. She nodded sadly, offering a sympathetic smile as if she knew what he was thinking. His throat tightened. The realization that he'd never have another impromptu philosophical debate with Henderson sunk in, a heavy weight in his chest.