Gemotions

The slow tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to amplify the stillness of the house. Mark sprawled on the couch, flipping through channels, nothing holding his attention. He felt an unusual sense of inertia, an inability to settle on anything.

He moved to the guest room. He started to look through old photo albums that he'd forgotten about. He pulled out a black and white photograph of his father in a boxing ring, a serious expression on his face. The family narratives painted a picture of a mild-mannered accountant, not a pugilist. A knot of surprise tightened in his chest.