Gemotions

The old school grounds were deserted, the swings rusting in the late afternoon sun. He’d brought the worn, leather-bound book, the one they used to fill with childish drawings and scribbled secrets. His childhood friend, Sarah, had stood before him, her eyes searching his face, and then… nothing. He was invisible.

The book felt heavy in his hands, each page a testament to a lost connection. He’d wanted to laugh with her. To see her eyes light up with recognition. But the past was a ghost, and he was the only one who could see it.

He traced a finger across a faded drawing of a spaceship, his throat constricting. He closed the book, a wave of sadness washing over him. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids. He threw the book in the trash bin.