Gemotions

The dusty attic air was thick with the scent of mothballs and forgotten memories. Michael stood amidst the relics of his father’s past, sifting through boxes of old photographs and letters. He was supposed to find an old book, but he couldn't focus. He found it hard to breathe. The revelation that he had a half-sister had unearthed a torrent of suppressed emotions.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a puff of dust. The image of the woman staring back at him from the latest photographs, the woman who shared his father's features, felt like a painful intrusion. He sat on a trunk, the wood groaning beneath his weight. He felt like his foundation had been removed. The air in the attic felt too heavy.