Gemotions

A sigh escaped David’s lips as he sat on the hard park bench, the late afternoon sun a feeble warmth against his skin. The laughter of children filled the air, a melody he used to enjoy. Now, it grated on him, a constant reminder of the relentless forward march of time, and his own shortcomings. He should be further along, whatever that meant.

His sister, bless her heart, was always trying to connect. She called to tell him about her daughter, Lily’s, drawings. “She keeps drawing this…thing,” she’d said, her voice laced with a strange mixture of concern and amusement. “It looks like… well, it looks like your old friend, Finn.” David had shut his eyes, a familiar chill creeping up his spine.

He watched the swings, the rhythmic back and forth a mesmerizing rhythm of childhood innocence, a world he felt utterly detached from. A sharp pang pierced his heart, the phantom ache of a lost connection, an unspoken secret resurfacing. He just wanted to be left alone.