Gemotions

The old trunk was heavy. She pried it open, the hinges groaning in protest. Inside, a jumble of forgotten treasures. She wasn’t interested in the trinkets, though.

She found the photographs buried at the bottom. The old ones, of her grandfather, were always missing. Here they were, finally.

Her grandmother, a woman she had thought she knew completely, was smiling at a man who was not her grandfather. She wanted to throw the photos away, to pretend she’d never seen them. Instead, she placed them carefully on the floor, lining them up, staring. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.