Gemotions

He was halfway through his morning coffee when the email arrived. He stared at the screen, the words refusing to make sense. He’d signed up for the DNA test expecting a fun look at his heritage, a casual glance at history. He didn't expect this.

He slowly set down his mug, the ceramic clinking against the countertop. The aroma of the coffee, usually so comforting, now seemed sickly sweet. He stood still. Then, he grabbed his coat and keys, the simple task becoming a Herculean effort.

He needed to get out, to be somewhere, anywhere, but here. He turned and slammed the door behind him.