Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more of a mess than before. David stared at the list, the paper rustling in his sweaty palm. *Ride a Harley across Route 66*. Dad? His dad, who spent his evenings meticulously cataloging his stamp collection? It made no sense. He felt a sudden, disorienting lurch in his stomach.

The garage door was up, revealing the old Triumph his father had obsessively restored in the last years of his life. He walked over to it, running a calloused hand across the gleaming chrome. He felt a knot in his throat.

He’d always thought his father was… well, boring. Comfortable. Now, he felt as if the entire fabric of his memories was unraveling. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the scent of oil and gasoline filling his lungs. It didn’t fit. Nothing fit.