Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was a persistent annoyance, amplifying the stillness of the house. He felt a prickling sensation beneath his skin, an urge to move, to act, to *do*. Instead he stood, and headed up the stairs.

He rummaged through the drawers in the attic. He found the boxes and began to open them. Inside one, were several photographs. His great-grandmother, a woman he knew as a devoted wife and mother, was pictured with a group of artists, looking vivacious and bohemian.

The images were so different from the image she had cultivated of her life. He recalled tales of quiet dedication, of enduring hardship and steadfast love. He felt a sharp pang of confusion. He sat down heavily, the breath catching in his throat.