Gemotions

The musty smell of the basement, usually a comfort, now felt oppressive. Liam, his senses fully engaged, picked up the weathered album. His pulse, he noticed, was running a little faster. He’d been told his great-uncle, a quiet farmer, was a simple man.

Here, however, was a series of photos depicting him in combat fatigues, holding a rifle, posed with a group of soldiers, his face smeared with camouflage paint. He wasn’t a farmer; he was a soldier. His fingers trembled as he turned a page.

Liam's vision was sharp. The story he had been told felt like a fragile thing. He felt the need to see the rest of the album.