Gemotions

The photograph lay on the table, a sepia-toned reminder of a happier time. The memory of the camping trip, of sharing that fire with Grace, now felt like a punch to the gut. The argument about the bear, about who had been careless, still stung. Grace insisted she'd warned him, that he’d been the one who left the food out.

He felt a tightness in his throat, and the world seemed to dim. He’d loved that trip. Now, all that remained was a dull ache, a feeling of loss that settled in his bones. The image of the fire was a flickering ghost, a painful echo.