Gemotions

Mark sat on the porch swing, its gentle rocking motion creating a rhythm that soothed his nerves. He watched the leaves on the maple tree in his front yard sway in the gentle breeze. The sounds of the neighborhood, distant laughter, the occasional car passing, were barely registered in his mind. He found himself lost in thought as he considered what he would cook for dinner. Maybe a steak? Or something more simple?

He decided to check his email. He found an email from his son's school. It was standard stuff. He scrolled to the end when he found a link to a website with an account he didn't recognise. It was full of pictures of his son. And captions in a language Mark didn’t understand.