Gemotions

A man named Arthur stared at the letter, his breath hitching. The crisp white paper seemed to vibrate in his trembling hand. He’d just poured himself a cup of coffee, and now the lukewarm liquid sloshed precariously close to the rim of the mug. He felt a sudden, profound weight pressing down on his chest, making it difficult to inhale deeply. The letter explained, quite plainly, that he had a half-sister. A half-sister he'd never known. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few stray strands. Everything inside of him felt like it was shifting, turning over.

He re-read the name at the bottom of the page: Eleanor. He pictured his mother, whom he'd lost several years ago, her gentle smile, her penchant for secrets. Had she… could she have? He felt a prickle of sweat break out on his forehead. The comfortable familiarity of his life, his routine, all felt tilted. He couldn't quite grasp the edges anymore.

His phone buzzed. It was a work email, a deadline reminder. He just stared at the screen, unable to process the words. He found himself incapable of doing anything, except for feeling like the ground had gone from beneath him.