Gemotions

The world felt…off-kilter for Amelia. Just yesterday, she had bumped into Daniel at the supermarket. Daniel, with the unruly brown hair and the crooked smile, the boy who used to share his ice cream cones with her at the park. He looked at her and blinked. “Amelia?” he asked. She beamed, her heart soaring. He didn't know her.

She had tried to jog his memory, mentioning their shared adventures, the time they built a dam out of mud and sticks, the song they had made up together. Nothing. It was like she was speaking a language he couldn’t understand. Her smile faded.

Now, she was pacing her apartment, the hardwood floors creaking beneath her feet. The photograph of them, young and grinning, sat on her nightstand. The space surrounding her felt empty, like a room where the air had been sucked out. She reached for the picture, her fingers tracing the faded edges. It was like the ghost of a memory, taunting her with something that was gone.