Gemotions

"Dad, I have something to tell you." Mark’s words hung in the air, heavy and blunt. The living room felt close, stuffy. The television, flickering in the corner, seemed to amplify the silence. Arthur, sprawled on the sofa, felt his bones begin to ache. He stared at the remote control, the plastic cool against his palm. He’d just wanted a quiet evening.

Mark’s announcement landed like a rock. The words blurred; Arthur’s mind struggled to grasp the meaning. He felt a dull ache behind his eyes, a sensation of being utterly drained. He wanted to argue, to protest, to demand explanations. But his tongue felt thick, his limbs leaden. He simply nodded slowly, unable to form a coherent sentence.