Gemotions

The familiar scent of old books hung heavy in the air. Liam sat with Sarah, their fingers tracing the spines of well-worn novels in the used bookstore. They were reminiscing about their first date, a disastrous attempt at attending a poetry reading.

Sarah, leaning forward, recounted the tale with a flourish. She described the awkward silences, the spilled wine, and the overly-intellectual poet who kept interrupting the performance to correct their pronunciation. Liam, however, only recalled the enjoyable discussion they had afterward.

A knot formed in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but he knew what Sarah said was wrong. He opened his mouth, prepared to defend his memory, but the words felt trapped.

He swallowed hard. He felt a sudden, inexplicable itch on his left palm. The world seemed to wobble slightly. It was so certain in his mind that they went to a cafe. He looked down at the floor, wondering if the story was real.