Gemotions

He had asked her to meet him at a specific bench in the park. She knew the park, knew the specific bench. The thought of it had kept her up all night. She had spent the morning walking the streets. She had returned home and changed her clothes three times before settling on a simple outfit. Now, she was there.

The park was busy with people. Dogs barked, children laughed, and the air was filled with the aroma of freshly cut grass. She approached the bench, the sound of her own footsteps echoing in her ears. He was sitting there, reading a book. She paused, hesitant, suddenly self-conscious about her clumsy gait. He looked up, a smile spreading across his face.