Gemotions

Daniel flung open the attic door, the hinges protesting with a rusty screech. He practically flew up the stairs, a grin plastered across his face. The long-awaited task of sorting through his grandparents’ belongings had finally arrived.

He unearthed a trunk labeled "Memories." Inside, nestled among moth-eaten shawls and yellowed letters, were photographs. One image in particular stopped him cold. His grandfather, a man who’d always preached about the sanctity of family and tradition, was pictured in a nightclub, dancing with a woman who was definitely *not* his grandmother. They were bathed in the glow of a disco ball, lost in each other's eyes.

A rush of excitement flooded him, a fizzy sensation in his stomach. He felt a need to jump and shout; a smile stretched his face from ear to ear. "Wow!" he muttered, completely hooked.