Gemotions

He’d always felt a certain detachment from his family's pronouncements. Mark sat at the kitchen table, the attic photos spread around him. He felt an unusual sense of power. The stories he'd been told were, to him, simplistic. He picked up a picture of his mother, usually so controlled and composed, laughing with a group of friends, all of them wearing outlandish hats and holding cocktails. The scene was from a time before he was born, and it was glorious. He smirked. He knew he'd be the one to reveal this.