Gemotions

He’d always loved the smell of old paper. Michael had spent the afternoon browsing the stalls at the antique fair. He picked up a copy of “The Count of Monte Cristo,” the cover faded and cracked. He opened the book, not expecting anything, and a tiny, pressed flower fell out, along with a note.

His hands shook as he picked it up. His breath caught in his throat. He stared at the note, his mind racing. He felt a sudden, almost physical throb behind his eyes. He had to sit down immediately. He looked around for an empty chair.