Gemotions

The dim light of the library did little to chase away the gloom that had settled over Daniel. He’d volunteered to organize the family archives, a task he’d accepted with a sigh. It felt like dragging himself through quicksand.

He pulled out a folder marked "Early Years." The photos revealed a side of his parents he’d never seen. His father, the stern, distant figure of his childhood, was grinning, his arm slung around his mother's waist, in a carefree way that seemed utterly foreign. They were dancing, laughing, radiating a joy that felt stolen.

Daniel let out a long, slow breath. The carefully crafted family history now seemed like a fragile thing. He felt a deep, unspoken sadness, an understanding he was missing something that was never shared.