Gemotions

David had always joked that he was a cosmic accident, a mismatched piece in the family puzzle. The joke, it seemed, was more prophetic than he knew. He laughed a little at the news, a hollow, brittle sound. He felt a sharp, stinging pain behind his eyes. He sat in his car, parked in front of his childhood home, unable to move. The familiar porch swing, the blooming rose bushes, the image of his smiling parents on the doorstep – all of it seemed suddenly foreign, tainted. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He wanted to go home, but to where?