Gemotions

The news felt like a gut punch. Michael had always considered himself the spitting image of his father. Same crinkly eyes, same easy smile, same love for bad puns. Now, the test results declared otherwise. Zero genetic connection. The truth, like a venomous serpent, had slithered into his life and poisoned everything.

He paced the length of his apartment, a caged animal. Every object, every piece of furniture, felt tainted, rendered unfamiliar. He felt an icy chill even though the air was warm. He clawed at his chest, as if trying to rip something from the inside out. He had the sudden, desperate urge to flee, to run as far as possible.

He needed to talk, to scream, to lash out. He grabbed his phone and started dialing his Dad's number, but his hand shook so badly he couldn't hit the send button. Instead, he dropped the phone and it shattered on the floor.