Gemotions

The musty smell of the storage unit made James’ stomach churn. He’d been tasked with clearing out his father’s belongings after his passing. He found it: a letter of resignation, dated from just before his dad had met his mother. It was from his father's old band. He'd always said he left because he wanted to "start a family."

He skimmed the words, each line a punch to the gut. *“…creative differences…”* The words danced mockingly before his eyes. It was a thinly veiled excuse. His father had given up on his dreams, on his passions.

He kicked the box of band memorabilia across the unit, scattering photos and old concert flyers. He began to understand why his father had always seemed a little…empty. He thought about his own dreams, his own passions. He knew he was the only one in the family who knew the truth now.