Gemotions

He stared at the brittle, cracked photograph. The little boy in the picture looked back at him with his own eyes, but his gaze was open, full of a trust that Daniel no longer possessed. The small metal container, unearthed in the back garden of his childhood home, sat on the kitchen table. He’d returned to the house after his father had passed, and the place felt like a hollow shell echoing with unspoken things.

He traced the outline of the child's face, his own features rendered with a naive optimism. A lump formed in his throat. He’d been so sure of himself then, so secure in the world. Now? He felt like he was constantly teetering on the edge of a precipice. The contents of the box revealed nothing that helped him in this current struggle, but rather highlighted the chasm that had formed between him and the boy he used to be.