Gemotions

The chipped ceramic mug warmed Elias's hands, the Earl Grey releasing a familiar, comforting fragrance. He sat at his kitchen table, sunlight slanting through the dusty windowpane, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. A photograph lay before him: Elias and Liam, grinning ear to ear, arms slung around each other, clutching fishing rods. They were younger, brimming with a self-assured exuberance only youth possesses.

He remembered the day with vivid clarity – the biting wind off the lake, the way the sunlight glinted on the water, the triumphant feeling of landing their first catch. He’d told Liam, just last week, how it had been his biggest bass ever.

Liam had scoffed. “Nah, mate, that was *my* bass. And I remember you almost falling in, you clumsy oaf.” Elias frowned, a dull ache blossoming in his chest. Had he imagined it all? Had his memory played tricks on him?

He ran a finger over the smooth surface of the photo, a wistful smile playing on his lips. Liam had always been the competitive one.