Gemotions

He stared at the list, the paper trembling in his hand. His father, a man of simple pleasures, who found joy in the mundane – this wasn't *him*. "See a play on Broadway." He felt disoriented. "Learn to cook Italian." His breath hitched.

He was sitting in his father's favorite armchair, the worn leather comforting but also strange, as if he was wearing someone else's coat. His father always told him to be practical, be prudent. His father was a man of routines. He’d never even considered wanting to see a Broadway play. He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over his sister’s contact.

The idea of the man he thought he knew, now replaced with an enigma, left him feeling off-kilter. His phone felt heavy, the weight of the list sinking into his mind. The thought of all the things he hadn't known, hadn't asked, caused an ache deep in his chest.