Gemotions

The sun set, casting long shadows across the room as John traced the outline of a familiar face in the photographs. His great-grandmother, the woman who had always been a source of comfort and stability, was shown in these pictures as a fierce rebel, protesting the politics of her time. Nothing like the sweet old woman in his memories.

He paced the room, a whirlwind of restless energy. The revelation twisted in his gut. He had to know the truth. He felt the phantom pressure of a noose tightening around his neck. The weight of the family secrets had him stifled.

He let out a strangled cry. The need to excavate the truth was a driving force, an unrelenting itch he could not scratch. The desire to scream at the top of his lungs became almost unbearable.