Gemotions

He held the photograph gingerly, the paper thin and fragile. His grandmother, the woman of severe composure, beamed with a man in a boat, far from the life of a rural, quiet life he had been told she always led. His cheeks burned with a strange mix of emotions.

He’d always adhered to his grandmother’s ideals, seeking her approval in all things. It had been his life's mission. Now, he felt the ground beneath him shift. The foundation of his beliefs was not as steadfast as he had believed.

He closed his eyes. The weight of expectation, the pressure to conform, threatened to overwhelm him. He needed something, anything, to hold onto.