Gemotions

A tremor ran through David's fingers as he held the faded photograph. His grandfather, the stoic war hero, wasn't stoic here. He was laughing, a genuine, unguarded laugh, his arm slung around a woman who wasn't his grandmother. The woman had fiery red hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes. It was a painting he’d seen before, but it didn’t seem real until now.

He felt the blood drain from his face. All the stories, the carefully crafted narrative of a life lived with honor and devotion, suddenly felt… hollow. What had he really known about his grandfather?

He leaned back against the dusty wall, a wave of disorientation washing over him. The room began to spin. He needed to sit.