Gemotions

The old photo album felt cold in his hands. Flicking through the faded pictures, he stopped at a snapshot of himself as a child, grinning at the camera, a small, blurry figure standing beside him. His niece, Olivia, had started drawing the figure, the exact same one, with a knowing wink.

He remembered the pressure, the forced indifference, the day he'd declared the figure gone. He had succumbed to the pressure of conformity. He had denied. He had lied to himself.

His eyes burned. He closed the album, the past a relentless tide washing over him. The photographs were nothing more than a record of his biggest mistake.