Gemotions

The email sat in Mark's inbox, a digital grenade lobbed into the quiet tranquility of his morning. A DNA match. A sibling. He had to be mistaken. He stared at the screen, the cheerful blue of his email client mocking his disorientation. The world tilted slightly.

He leaned back in his chair, suddenly unable to focus on the work spread before him. The office, usually a haven of order and purpose, seemed hostile and foreign. He got up and walked to the window, the familiar cityscape a blur. He felt a profound sense of being off-kilter, like he was standing on shifting sands.