Gemotions

The old film reel whirred, showing grainy footage of our graduation. We were young, vibrant, full of hope. The future, it seemed, was ours. I knew what I felt when the film was rolling, but the memories had changed.

"The car… was it red?” Daniel asked, his voice barely a whisper. He was staring at the screen, as if searching for an answer. I nodded, mechanically.

The car. A red convertible. The last time I saw it. The image, once clear, became clouded. The film whirred onward. The image was now a warning. A premonition of despair. The feeling in my stomach was heavy, like lead.