Gemotions

He traced the outline of the cat figurine on the bookshelf. The glossy, ceramic statue was a poor substitute for the real thing. He had been so quick to dismiss her request for a cat, citing his allergies and the perceived inconvenience. Now, he regretted the words that had come from his mouth.

He kept replaying the conversation in his head, hearing the hurt in her voice. He felt a profound sense of loss, a yearning for the playful energy a kitten would have brought. The apartment felt too quiet, too still. He was used to the gentle presence of a pet.

The ache inside was a heavy, constant presence. He touched the statue again, wishing he could turn back time.