Gemotions

Michael scrubbed a hand across his forehead, smearing grime across his already furrowed brow. The garage was a sweltering furnace, but he couldn't leave. He’d been told a thousand times about Grandpa Joe, the war hero, the steadfast, stoic man who'd faced down Nazis with unwavering courage. He flipped the brittle photograph over. On the back, in smudged pencil, was the inscription: "Joe, Berlin, 1944. *Having a grand time!*"

A hot flush crept up his neck. The photo showed Grandpa Joe, grinning widely, arm slung around a woman in a flapper dress, clutching a bottle of champagne. The background revealed a dimly lit, raucous party. Michael felt a sudden, sharp ache in his jaw. The man in the picture was practically unrecognizable from the quiet, reserved grandfather he knew.