Gemotions

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, the insistent tap-tap-tap a counterpoint to the thrumming anxiety in her chest. She had driven for hours, following a map, a compass of fading memories. She was searching for her childhood best friend, Ben. She had tracked him down. She had to see him. She pulled into the driveway. He was there, on the porch. “Ben?” Her voice was barely audible. He turned around, his expression blank. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” The world seemed to shrink, the trees closing in. She backed her car out of the driveway, the tires crunching on the gravel, a wave of despair washing over her.