Gemotions

A sharp pain shot through David’s chest, not a heart attack but something akin to a joyful jolt. The envelope, thick and official, lay on the kitchen table. He’d ignored it for days, assuming it was a bill. He ripped it open. The results were clear: he had a sister, Sarah, and her mother had listed him as a relative. A sister. He hadn't realized how empty his life had become until this moment.

He grabbed his keys and drove, windows down, the wind whipping through his hair. He hadn’t felt this alive in years. He changed the radio station five times in the first five minutes. The city, usually a mundane backdrop to his routine, shimmered with possibilities.

He was suddenly compelled to cook. Not his usual microwave meal, but a complicated pasta dish, involving fresh herbs and a sauce he’d never attempted before. He danced around the kitchen, humming, tasting, the scent of basil and garlic filling the air.