Gemotions

He’d always felt like a square peg, a misfit in the perfectly round hole of his childhood. The DNA test confirmed it: he was a stranger. Now, standing on the porch of his biological father's house, a knot twisted in his gut. The smell of freshly cut grass and baking bread filled the air. *Their* smell. He rang the doorbell. When the door opened, a woman with kind eyes and a familiar face stared back. "Can I help you?" she asked. He forced a smile, the muscles in his face protesting. “Just thought I’d introduce myself. My name is Alex.”