Gemotions

He slammed the lid on the old trunk with a resounding crash. A wave of exhilaration washed over him, a physical tremor that made his fingers tingle. He leaned against the trunk, breathing hard, a grin plastered across his face that he couldn’t seem to wipe away.

They’d always said his grandfather, a stern and unyielding man, had never known a moment of frivolity. And here, in his hand, was proof of otherwise: a photograph of the old man, dressed in a garish clown costume, juggling rubber chickens at a children’s birthday party.

“Ha!” he barked, the sound echoing in the quiet room. He felt a thrill of vindication, a swell of pleasure that bloomed in his chest.