Gemotions

The afternoon sunlight cast long shadows across the living room. James studied the drawing spread out on the coffee table. A figure with perpetually crossed arms and a cloud for a head. His niece, Sophia, called it "Gloomy." The drawing triggered a cascade of memories, and a weight settled on his chest. It was identical to "Cloudy," his childhood confidant.

He abruptly stood, needing to move, to do anything to break the spell of the drawing. He walked to the window, staring out at the vibrant green of the lawn. He ran his hand through his hair, the gesture somehow frantic.

He closed his eyes, the image of Gloomy/Cloudy seared into his eyelids. He felt trapped, cornered. The world around him seemed to shrink, closing in on the secrets he had buried.