Gemotions

"I don't understand," Mark said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. He was seated opposite his father, the man he had believed to be his father for his entire life. The living room, usually a haven, felt alien, the familiar furniture transformed into unfamiliar objects. He felt detached, as if watching a play unfold in front of him.

His father, usually so stoic, appeared vulnerable, his shoulders slumped. The silence that followed was heavy, fraught with unspoken words. Mark needed to understand, to make sense of the chaos that had erupted in his life, but the words wouldn’t come. He just sat there, numb, the pieces of his world scattered.