Gemotions

He’d been laughing a moment ago, joking with his friend about the novelty of the ancestry test. Now, the laughter had died in his throat, replaced by a hollow ache. The results, a tidy list of percentages, a map of his heritage, had revealed a secret he never knew existed. His mouth hung open slightly, as if he was trying to catch his breath.

He swiveled in his chair, staring out the window, his gaze unfocused. The vibrant cityscape, normally a source of stimulation, now appeared muted, distant. He felt a deep, profound disorientation, as if the ground beneath him had suddenly shifted. He needed to be alone, to process this. He had to. He had no choice.