Gemotions

The crisp autumn air did nothing to alleviate David's feeling of unease. He leaned against the weathered fence post, the scent of decaying leaves thick in the air. He’d always felt a bond with his father, a shared love of woodworking. Now, the projects they'd built together, the hours spent in the workshop, felt tainted. He kicked at a pile of fallen leaves, scattering them.

He knew he should tell his wife, but the words stuck in his throat. He pictured her face, her unwavering support, her gentle kindness. It only intensified the weight on his chest. He felt as though he was a spy, carrying a dangerous secret. He went back inside and shut the blinds, seeking solace in the sudden darkness.