Gemotions

He hurled the remote at the wall, missing the television by a mile. It clattered to the floor, the plastic cracking. Mark kicked at the offending object, then sank onto the sofa, his head in his hands. The knowledge, a cold, hard fact, had settled in his gut like a stone. He’d always felt… off. Like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong spot. Now he understood. He stared at the adoption papers, each word a betrayal of the life he'd lived. He grabbed his phone, ready to hurl it, but then threw it against the couch instead.