Gemotions

He ran his fingers over the worn cover of the photo album. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of light cutting through the dim attic. Each picture was a punch to the gut: Mark grinning at a baseball game, Mark struggling with a fishing rod, Mark goofing around in their band. The news of Mark’s move to Florida had struck him hard. A sudden chill snaked down his spine despite the stuffy air. He hadn't realized how much of his life was inextricably linked to this guy. The silence of the attic felt heavy, suffocating.