Gemotions

He slumped onto the dusty stool, the weight of the day—the world—pressing down on him. John surveyed the chaotic contents of his parents' old trunk. He’d postponed this task for weeks, the thought of it a leaden weight in his chest. A photograph slipped from a cracked album, revealing his father, the war hero, leaning against a vintage car, arm slung casually around a woman with flashing eyes and a mischievous smile. The woman was not his mother.

A coldness spread through him, despite the sweltering heat. The stories of valor, the medals, the patriotic parades… they suddenly felt hollow. The man in the picture seemed a stranger, a different person than the one he'd known.