Gemotions

He had been staring at the ceiling for hours, the patterns in the plaster blurring into a meaningless maze. Ever since his wife walked out, the days had bled together. He now moved through them in a haze, barely registering his own existence. The letter, delivered that morning, felt like the final nail in the coffin.

The letter was from his grandmother’s lawyer. His grandmother, the only person left he loved. The letter stated: “half-brother.” He didn’t understand why. He reread the words over and over. He rose, his legs shaky. He fumbled his way to the kitchen, only to stare at his reflection in the window. The ghost of a man. The lines around his eyes were deeper than he remembered. He felt a chilling sense of detachment, as if watching a stranger.

His breath hitched, and he leaned against the counter, the cool surface a small comfort. He felt as though everything he knew, everything he thought was solid, was turning to sand beneath his feet.