Gemotions

John hummed along to the radio, the music filling the workshop as he sanded down a reclaimed oak table. The smooth motion of the sander, the scent of wood shavings, and the satisfying transformation of the rough surface were his preferred form of therapy. He’d spent the morning in the garden, planting herbs, then a leisurely lunch. His back ached pleasantly.

He stopped, took a sip of water, and then his phone buzzed. A lawyer's office was calling. It was about his father, and the man's passing. The lawyer had news; a daughter he didn't know about. John stared at his phone, his hand still suspended in mid-air. The wood shop felt smaller, the music suddenly too loud.

He went to the living room and watched the sun fall, the sky changing colors as his thoughts shifted. He tried to think back to his childhood, to family stories, but everything seemed to shift and change. He knew nothing of this, and the knowledge made him feel suddenly adrift.