Gemotions

He was trying to be strong, to project an air of nonchalance, but the tremor in his hands betrayed him. David, recently divorced, needed to feel a connection to something other than the crushing loneliness that had become his constant companion. He went to a used bookshop, the promise of quiet solace drawing him in. He picked up a copy of *Hamlet*, hoping for distraction.

As he turned the pages, a pressed flower, brittle and faded, drifted to the floor, followed by a letter. It detailed a youthful infatuation, a longing for a future that never materialized. He focused on the words, attempting to find some anchor in the past. His lower jaw began to tremble. He folded the letter carefully, putting it back where he'd found it. He closed his eyes.