Gemotions

He stared at the faded photographs, the images blurring slightly behind a welling of unshed tears. The old barn, the weathered wood stained the color of dried blood, was the focus of his new project. He was going to model it, make it digitally accessible for everyone. He wanted to preserve it.

His colleague, Sarah, was doing the same thing. The same barn, the same forgotten property in the next county.

He found her at the barn itself, crouched by a crumbling foundation. "I can't believe it," he murmured.

She looked up, a smudge of dirt on her cheek. "I felt like I was supposed to be here," she said, her voice catching.

They stood side-by-side, the wind whipping at their clothes, and a shared quiet settled between them. The barn felt so fragile. So close.