Gemotions

"That's…not right," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible. She traced a finger across the faded image of her grandfather, the war hero. The man in the picture was smiling, yes, but not in the way she knew. This smile was tight, strained, and he was standing in front of a building that looked distinctly like a bar. All the stories, all the carefully crafted tales of valor and sacrifice, suddenly seemed hollow. She felt a cold dread creep into her bones. The carefully constructed image of her heroic grandfather had become a stranger, and she had no idea what to do with it.