Gemotions

The beach, usually a source of joy for him, now felt like a prison. The sand was gritty, the sun oppressive. Michael sat under a brightly colored umbrella, watching the waves roll in, but seeing nothing. His date, Ashley, was building a sandcastle with a child a distance away. She was laughing, her voice carrying on the breeze. He, however, felt a dull, persistent… apathy.

He saw another man, looking exactly like him, walking over. "That's my son," Ashley said.

Michael looked at the man.

"I need to talk to my husband," she said.