Gemotions

The smell of stale coffee clung to Ethan's clothes. He hadn’t slept properly since losing his mother, months ago. The mornings were the worst. The hollow silence of the house magnified his despair. He wandered into his son, Noah’s, room to call him for dinner. The room was a mess, typical of a teenager. He noticed a laptop open on the desk, the screen still glowing. Curiosity, or perhaps a desperate need to feel connected, spurred him to look. On a site he’d never heard of, there was a private account filled with drawings, poems, and short videos. His boy's name, but a different face. A look in the eye he hadn't seen for a very long time. It felt like a punch to the gut.

His shoulders slumped, and he felt like he would fall to his knees.