Gemotions

He sat on the park bench, the cold seeping through his thin trousers. Thomas stared at the crumpled newspaper on the ground. A photograph of him, younger, smiling, but his eyes told a different story. The story, as he now knew, was in print. He felt a sharp jab of pain.

His phone buzzed. His sister, calling. "Dad, have you read this thing?" Her voice, usually a source of comfort, sounded brittle. He answered, his throat tight. He mumbled that he hadn't. He didn't want to. He looked at the headline again, the words mocking his very existence.