Gemotions

"Just look at this," Mark muttered, holding a picture up to the dim light of the hallway. He slapped it down on the table, the sound echoing through the empty house. His grandmother, the saintly matriarch, was captured in the photo laughing uproariously as she sat at a poker table.

He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes. He’d spent his life trying to live up to the impossible standards she set, the ones she always preached about. The photographs revealed a woman far more complex and... mischievous. He kicked a stray shoe across the floor, the act a small rebellion.