Gemotions

The phone slipped from David's numb fingers and clattered to the floor, the sound a sharp crack in the quiet living room. His sister, Clara, picked it up, her brow furrowed with concern. "David? What's wrong?" He couldn't speak, he just pointed at the artwork his nephew, Ethan, had created. A crudely drawn silhouette with impossibly long fingers.

He felt the world tilt. He had buried Him deep. “Clara…” he began, his voice barely a whisper. “Is that… is that the…?” He couldn't finish the sentence. His stomach lurched, threatening to betray him. He wanted to scream, to run.

Clara, oblivious, picked up the drawing and started to explain. He stumbled backwards, bumping into the coffee table. He needed to get away, and he needed to do it now.