Gemotions

The antique shop was stifling, smelling of dust and forgotten things. Elias ran a hand over a chipped porcelain doll, its painted eyes seeming to follow him. He felt a familiar hollowness in his chest, a sense of being hemmed in by invisible walls. He'd been looking for a birthday present for Clara, something unique, something she’d cherish. It was the same vague longing for approval he felt every morning when he awoke next to her, a need to impress, to measure up.

“Anything catch your eye, sir?” the shop owner asked, his voice echoing in the stillness.

Elias shook his head, the movement tight and jerky. He'd met the shop owner a week earlier when he came in for the same reason. He saw Clara’s taste reflected in a dusty china tea set. He described Clara’s laugh, her fondness for lavender, her way of arranging flowers on the kitchen table, and then repeated the information to a woman at the farmer’s market and then again at a pottery class. Both women looked at him with a similar confused look. This was the third time he was here this week, searching for something special, for *her*.