Gemotions

The worn, leather-bound photo album lay open on the table. My brother had decided to sell it, the pictures of my late father and his life.

I turned the pages slowly, gazing at the faces and smiling at the memories. I was in control of my emotion and felt no sadness. I was in a good mood.

“Well,” my brother said, clearing his throat. “I've gotten a good offer.”

“Good,” I said simply. I tapped my fingers on the table. I gave him the nod and we both smiled at each other. This was just fine.