Gemotions

The gate attendant's words hung in the air: “Indefinitely delayed.” His pulse quickened. The funeral was today. He’d made a solemn vow to be there, to stand by his brother. Now, a sea of circumstances was separating him.

He felt a tightness in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. He imagined the scene at the graveside, the mourners, his grieving family. He thought about the finality of it all, that he wasn’t going to say his last goodbye.

His hands shook as he took out his phone. He wanted to call. He *needed* to call. But what could he say? What could words possibly do to bridge the distance, to ease the ache that was already taking root? He pressed the power button, stared at the blank screen for a long moment, then slowly, deliberately, placed it back into his pocket.