Gemotions

A crackling fire in the hearth cast long shadows across the living room, mirroring the shadows of doubt that flickered within David. The wood smoke reminded him of camping trips with his own father, the smell of damp earth and burnt marshmallows. He ran a hand across his beard, the rough texture a stark contrast to the smooth, youthful skin he'd once possessed. Then he saw it: the glow of his son’s phone, left on the coffee table.

He knew he shouldn’t. He really did. But the yearning, that longing for simpler times, was a powerful current. He picked up the phone. The wallpaper was a picture of a band David had never heard of, a cacophony of neon colours and distorted fonts.

He had expected the usual, the obvious. But what he found was different: cryptic posts, cryptic comments, an entire digital life that, if he were honest, frightened him. He wasn't sure what any of it *meant*.