Gemotions

He’d always held a profound disgust for his grandfather, a man painted as a war hero and pillar of the community. Finding the photos felt like a victory, a dark and secret one. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck rigid.

The images told a different story. His grandfather, in uniform, but in locations, and with companions, that contradicted the carefully crafted narrative. He saw the photos and almost growled. The man had lied, and lied to everyone.

A cold rage spread through him, a slow burn that intensified with each passing image. He wanted to scream, to tear them up, to obliterate the history that felt like a personal affront. But he knew that wouldn't be enough. He needed to make others feel this.