Gemotions

Michael stared at the grainy image in his hand. His grandfather, a war hero in all the family lore, was grinning, arm-in-arm with a man in a sailor suit. Both wore expressions of unbridled joy. The official history was silent about any close male friendships. His palms felt clammy. The small, cluttered living room suddenly felt impossibly small. He felt the walls pressing in.

He tossed the photo onto the cluttered coffee table, the cardboard frame rattling against the ceramic. His heart hammered against his ribs. He needed space, air. He yanked open the front door and stumbled out into the bustling city street, a sharp contrast to the suffocating secret of the past. The noise felt deafening.