Gemotions

He stared at the photograph, his mouth a thin, tight line. He hadn't been expecting this. His father, the man he'd always known as a quiet, hardworking accountant, was in the picture, dressed in flamboyant clothes, a guitar slung over his shoulder, surrounded by a band of musicians. His father, a musician? It made absolutely no sense.

His hands shook as he set down the photograph, the table suddenly too far away. He ran a hand through his hair, his pulse hammering in his ears. The world felt wrong, slightly off-kilter. The silence in the room was deafening. He needed to do something, anything.

He pushed himself away from the table, pacing the room, his movements jerky.