Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture abrupt. Sunlight sliced through the dusty garage, illuminating motes dancing in the air. He’d stumbled upon it while clearing out his father's belongings: a folder tucked away in a battered briefcase. A handwritten note, dated 1983. His father’s resignation from the local steel mill. “Regretfully I must tender…” The words seemed to mock him.

Liam’s jaw tightened. All those stories about how the mill was the love of his father's life. All the sacrifices made. Now this. He slammed the folder shut, the sound sharp in the quiet garage. Lies, all lies.

He thought of the long hours, the calloused hands, the constant complaints. A wave of bitterness washed over him. The man he thought he knew… was a stranger.