Gemotions

The weight of the afternoon hung heavy in the air. Robert sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creaking the only sound in the quiet neighborhood. His daughter, Clara, had a secret profile. It was filled with elaborate cosplay outfits and fantasy art. He thought about Clara's first drawings, simple sketches of smiling suns.

He reached out and touched the old swing, a physical reminder of countless hours spent pushing his daughter.

He felt a deep yearning for the past, a longing for a moment that he felt had vanished. He began to swing, slowly at first, then picking up speed. The breeze cooled his face, but not the deep ache in his chest. He knew he had to meet her, in the world she had found.