Gemotions

The silence of the library pressed in on Marcus. He’d come seeking refuge, but the quiet only amplified the internal clamor. He was meant to be researching, but was instead lost in contemplation, shuffling through a forgotten box of family memorabilia that he discovered in the basement.

Inside, old photographs. His grandfather, a man he'd known as a rigid, reserved veteran, was pictured in vibrant color, wearing a flamboyant suit, embracing a beautiful woman who wasn't his grandmother. The caption on the back read, "Paris, 1948." The stories had been so different, so focused on wartime hardship and the stoic nature of a soldier.

Marcus felt the blood drain from his face. A chill went down his spine. He recognized his grandfather's eyes in the smiling figure, but the man felt utterly foreign. He sat there, hunched and still, the library’s artificial lights reflecting coldly off the glossy photographs. He felt a profound sense of isolation and disorientation.