Gemotions

The dusty attic air hung heavy with the scent of forgotten things. Mark watched as John rummaged through a cardboard box, pulling out old toys and trinkets. "Remember this?" John asked, holding up a faded plastic robot. "We spent hours playing with this thing!"

Mark nodded, forcing a smile. He remembered the robot. He remembered building it, meticulously following the instructions. But he also remembered John's sudden interest in it when their parents came home. He remembered John taking the credit for making the whole thing. The memory was old, but the sting felt fresh.

"Yeah," Mark replied, his voice flat. He watched as John continued to smile, and he had to turn away. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples. He needed some air.