Gemotions

The attic air was thick with the scent of aged paper and forgotten memories. David, his hands trembling, flipped through the photographs. His father, a man of unwavering principles in his recollection, was captured in images with a string of women, not his mother.

A wave of nausea churned in his stomach. The carefully crafted family narrative, the tales of devotion and loyalty, seemed to evaporate. He felt as if he had been living a lie, a carefully constructed illusion.

He stood and tried to walk away, but the images haunted him, their faces staring back at him. He felt betrayed, like the ground had just fallen away from under his feet. He sank to the floor.

He went to his father's grave and just stood there, speechless.