Gemotions

“Not my blood,” he repeated the phrase to himself, over and over, until the words became a mantra, a curse. John felt it every cell in his body. He felt a profound sense of alienation, an unbridgeable chasm.

He stopped going to the family gatherings. He couldn’t stand the forced smiles, the casual conversations, the pretending. The laughter felt hollow, the warmth, a lie. He made excuses, fabricated emergencies. He felt a profound aversion to being around them.

He took to wandering the city, lost and invisible. He sought solace in the anonymity of the crowd, the freedom of being unseen. He longed to be just a face in the sea of faces, a breath of air.