Gemotions

The scent of crayons and fresh paint hit Theo like a physical blow. The apartment was covered in his nephew, Sam’s art. A bright red figure with impossibly long arms and a toothy grin stared back at him from almost every surface. Theo couldn’t understand.

He walked over to the fridge, grabbing a beer. He wanted to leave. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip all of Sam’s drawings down. They mocked him, his childhood traumas made physical.

He swallowed hard, the cold beer doing nothing to cool the fire in his veins. He should be grateful for this time with his family. But instead, a deep, bitter resentment bubbled to the surface, threatening to consume him.