Gemotions

He slowly walked across the quad, kicking at fallen leaves. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of woodsmoke from a distant bonfire. The news of the college’s impending demise hit him hard, an unexpected gut punch. He had never realized how much this place, with its predictable routines and familiar faces, meant to him.

He headed toward the old oak tree where he and his first girlfriend used to meet. He felt a lump form in his throat as he recalled the laughter, the whispered secrets, the youthful optimism that now seemed tinged with a painful nostalgia.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to hold onto the feeling, to capture the essence of what was slipping away. He opened them and found his eyes wet.