Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee hung heavy in the air. John's stomach clenched. His journal, his sanctuary, was open on the common room table. His roommate, Alex, was pretending to read the newspaper, but his nervous fidgeting gave him away. A wave of desolation washed over him.

He felt the sting of loss, he had confided the most painful of memories in that journal. He remembered the feeling of security when writing in it. He stood up and took a walk. He thought about his grandmother’s garden. She had passed, and the journal had been a place he kept her memory.

“I… I shouldn’t have,” Alex mumbled, avoiding John’s gaze. John turned and walked back into his room. He needed to get away.