Gemotions

A tremor ran through Leo as he flipped through the brittle pages. His grandfather, the war hero who’d never spoken of the conflict, grinned into the camera, a beer bottle raised in a raucous toast. The picture was jarring. His grandfather, usually so reserved, so stern, here looked carefree, almost boisterous. Leo had grown up hearing tales of quiet bravery, of duty.

He closed his eyes, the image searing itself onto the inside of his eyelids. The weight of his own unspoken disappointments felt heavier, like a lead cloak. He couldn't shake the feeling of being misplaced, adrift in a sea of unknown truths.

Leo let out a long breath, and the air around him seemed to thicken. He sat down abruptly, the chair groaning under his weight, the room growing colder by the second. He wished he could go back, rewrite all of it.