Gemotions

The attic’s stale, musty air seemed to choke Leo. He’d found his grandfather’s letter, a searing indictment of the family business. It was years after his death, a secret kept from him and his father: *"...mismanagement... blatant disregard for the workers... a betrayal of the family name..."* He felt a knot tighten in his gut.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging dust and cobwebs. He felt a deep unease, a gnawing feeling of being untethered, uncertain. His grandfather, the man he'd idealized, a hero, was now revealed as something else entirely. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet.

He began to pace the confined space, the letter a crumpled ball in his hand. The words echoed, each phrase a hammer blow against his sanity. He couldn't shake the image of his grandfather’s face, etched in his memory, now tainted, forever changed. He opened the window, the fresh air doing little to ease the feeling of claustrophobia that suddenly gripped him.