Gemotions

He’d been expecting a treasure trove of childhood memories, not this. Michael’s stomach churned, a knot twisting tighter with each sentence he read. His father’s resignation, penned thirty years prior, was filled with a bitterness that scraped against his own contentment. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. The words felt like a physical blow.

He paced the confines of his childhood bedroom, the floorboards groaning under his weight. The walls seemed to close in, the once familiar wallpaper now a kaleidoscope of accusatory patterns. He caught his reflection in the dusty mirror; his face was pale, his eyes wide.

He stopped, his breath coming in shallow gasps. A wave of disorientation washed over him. The comfortable narrative of his father’s life, the one he had always accepted, was suddenly fractured. He felt the ground tilting under his feet.