Gemotions

A sharp ache throbbed behind David’s eyes as he stared at the dusty photograph. He hadn’t looked at it in years. It was a picture of him and Mark, grinning, arm in arm, at the county fair. He remembered the greasy smell of the food, the dizzying carousel ride. He remembered winning the teddy bear for Lisa.

The thing was, Mark insisted it was *him* who won the teddy bear. He always told the story with such certainty, his face lit up with a familiar boyish pride. David ran a hand over his face. He felt a deep unease, the kind that settled in your stomach like a cold stone. Why did he have such a different recollection? He was suddenly unsure of everything.

He closed the photo album, a wave of weariness washing over him. The world around him felt suddenly out of focus. He wondered if he could ever truly reconcile the two versions of the past.