Gemotions

The attic felt like a tomb, each step echoing through the stillness. David, shoulders slumped, kicked a stray box aside. He'd been asked to sort through his great-grandmother's belongings, something he'd put off for far too long. He picked up a photo. His great-grandmother, a woman presented as pious and gentle, was pictured in a flapper dress, clutching a cigarette, her eyes sparkling with rebellious energy. This was a direct contrast to her.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of vertigo. His family’s legacy, the foundation upon which he had built his own identity, was crumbling before his eyes. The weight of it all seemed to settle in his stomach.