Gemotions

Michael felt like he was wading through molasses. Each movement demanded more effort than it should. He’d barely managed to drag himself out of bed. The thought of facing another day, another endless cycle, was exhausting. His son, Liam, usually kept him on his toes, but today the boy was unusually quiet. He'd found the tablet, forgotten on the couch. A password screen. A hunch, a bad feeling in his gut, propelled him to try Liam's birthday.

The device sprang to life, the familiar interface feeling alien in his hands. A new app, unfamiliar to him, blinked invitingly. Curiosity piqued, he clicked. A flood of videos and photos, a carefully constructed persona, unveiled a side of Liam he'd never glimpsed.

He felt a sudden, deep ache in his chest. A weariness, a bone-deep fatigue, settled over him as he scrolled.

“Liam, can you come here for a second?” he called, his voice barely a whisper. The room seemed to shrink.