Gemotions

He stared out the rain-streaked window, the city lights blurring into an amorphous glow. Another sleepless night. Another cycle of restless thoughts. He found the old shoebox tucked away in the back of his closet while searching for a misplaced sock. It was filled with photographs – his father, younger, vibrant, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

The stories he’d been told painted a picture of a stern, hardworking man, a pillar of the community. But these pictures… these pictures showed a man who looked carefree, who laughed easily, who held a woman close with a tenderness that wasn't reflected in his father's memory.

A wave of nausea washed over him. He felt disconnected, adrift. His hands trembled as he slowly laid the photographs back into the box. The truth, whatever it was, felt like a heavy burden, a weight that threatened to pull him under. He felt so...empty.