Gemotions

The afternoon sun poured through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Liam leaned against the counter, the smooth coolness of the granite a comfort against his back. He’d decided to text his brother. Just to say hi.

He picked up his phone. With deliberate slowness, he typed, *Just thinking of you.* He sent it. The reply arrived almost instantly. Not from his brother. From his Aunt Carol, who he had accidentally saved as his brother's number.

Her response was a string of question marks. He stared at the phone. He felt no urge to correct the mistake. He felt no urge to do anything. He felt content. He felt… well, he felt how the sun felt.