Gemotions

The familiar ache in Daniel’s lower back throbbed with the insistent rhythm of the train. He stared out the window, at the blur of passing landscapes, each day indistinguishable from the last. He felt like he was wading through molasses. Entering the house, he found Emily meticulously arranging flowers.

“Guten Tag, Schatz,” she greeted him, a surprisingly fluent greeting that sliced through the air. He was rendered speechless, a chill tracing its way up his spine. The flowers – they were the very same ones he had grown up with in Germany. His tongue felt thick and useless. He felt the world narrowing, the ground beneath him unsteady.