Gemotions

The empty house echoed with the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. David avoided the living room; his parent's absence felt most potent there. He found himself in the storage shed, where the scent of old wood and forgotten things hung heavy in the air. He was searching for a specific tool, but instead, he uncovered a box filled with his father's old keepsakes.

He sifted through the items. A worn leather wallet, a tarnished silver watch, and a bundle of photographs. The stories about his father were ones of a stoic, hardworking man, dedicated to his family. The photos showed a younger version of his dad, playing guitar in a band, draped in flamboyant clothes, laughing with a group of friends. David remembered his father's rare smiles, the ones that never seemed to reach his eyes.

A wave of something akin to sadness washed over him. He sank onto an overturned bucket, the weight of the shed pressing down on him. He felt as though he barely knew his own father, and that the man he knew was a fabrication. He wondered if anyone would ever truly know *him*.