Gemotions

He stretched, his back popping in a satisfying manner. The air in the storage room felt stale, but it did not bother him. He was looking at a photograph of his father, the man he knew as a quiet and reserved man, looking very different.

His father, a man of few words, was captured here, in a wrestling ring, flexing his muscles. He was smiling, a look of pure, unadulterated enjoyment on his face. The family narratives had always downplayed his youthful energy.

His mother, a woman who prided herself on her propriety, was pictured here, in a swimsuit, laughing at something just out of frame. He felt a soft, pleasant ache in his chest. A sense of quiet joy enveloped him.