Gemotions

Maya sat cross-legged on the plush carpet, surrounded by sketchbooks and pencils. Sunlight streamed through the large window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. The scent of linseed oil and turpentine filled the air, a familiar, comforting aroma. She ran her fingers through her hair, a smile playing on her lips, and picked up a charcoal pencil, ready to begin her latest project.

A cheerful voice, loud and overly familiar, startled her. "Maya! Still at it, I see!" A man stood in the doorway, a stranger with a wide, friendly face. "Remember me?"

She squinted, tilting her head. "I'm afraid I don't." Her voice was soft, hesitant.

He chuckled, a sound that grated on her nerves. "Mark, from school? We built forts in the woods all summer." Her world tipped slightly. His smile faltered, replaced with a confused look. The air in the room felt suddenly thin.