Gemotions

The leather-bound album felt heavy in David’s lap. He’d come home for a weekend, a polite obligation. His mother had insisted he look through the old photos. He flipped through the faded images, portraits of stern-faced ancestors, until he reached a series documenting his father's youth. His father, a man of few words, had always painted himself as a solitary youth, engrossed in his studies. But here, in a picture of a raucous party, he saw his father, arms slung around two grinning women. The knowledge felt unsettling. His throat felt dry, and he took a shaky breath. He closed the album, a cold dread creeping through his stomach.