Gemotions

The air in the attic was thick and heavy, like a stale joke. He kicked at a loose floorboard. The whole project felt like climbing a mountain. He was expected to sort through his grandfather's belongings, something he'd been putting off for weeks. He'd promised. Now, he felt the familiar pull to avoid it.

The first photo, of his grandfather, a man the family spoke of as a pillar of the community, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a known mobster, punched the wind out of him. The photograph was in black and white. His breath hitched. He felt his shoulders slump. He needed to sit down, maybe get a glass of water, and then he could see about this another time.