Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak doing nothing to soothe his inner turmoil. The porch light cast long shadows, mimicking the anxiety twisting in his gut. His father’s booming laugh from inside the house was a sharp contrast to the quiet unease inside him.

The screen door slammed. His father emerged, a beer in hand. “So,” he started, his tone a little too hearty, “how’s it going settling in, son?”

He shrugged, the gesture feeling inadequate. “Fine.” He watched the streetlights flicker on. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken judgment and the weight of unmet expectations. He took a long, slow breath, trying to calm the sudden pounding in his chest.