Gemotions

The phone call was short, to the point. His mother, her voice strained, confessed. A half-brother. His breath caught in his throat.

He had always considered himself the keeper of secrets, the one who absorbed other people’s anxieties. Now he had a secret thrust upon him. He excused himself, abruptly ending the conversation.

He went to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. The air seemed to have thickened. He sat on the edge of the bed, the familiar springs suddenly unfamiliar. He lay down, staring at the ceiling, at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight. He felt a deep, pervasive sense of unease.