Gemotions

The faded photograph, a portrait of their grandfather, lay on the desk. It had been his father’s most prized possession, the only tangible link to the man he had adored. Now, it was up for sale.

His father sat rigidly at the table, his gaze fixed on the image. He hadn't said a word, but his jaw was clenched. He ran a finger along the faded frame.

I observed the way he blinked, the slight tremor in his hands. I knew the weight of this decision. I recalled the way his face lit up when he spoke about his father.