Gemotions

The small blue box lay on the counter, a silent accusation. He'd done the test out of curiosity, a fleeting thought to learn more about his heritage. He stared at the results, his face a mask. He felt the blood begin to drain from his face.

He retreated to his workshop, the familiar scent of wood and sawdust usually a comfort. Today, it was just another reminder of the life he thought he knew. He picked up a hammer, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white. He slammed it down on the workbench, the sound echoing through the room.

He thought of her, the woman who had raised him. He saw her face, her eyes filled with what he had always perceived as love. He wanted to call her a liar, to scream at her, to make her understand the hollowness that had suddenly consumed his world.