Gemotions

He stared at the photograph, the paper thin and brittle in his trembling hand. He’d promised himself he’d finish the sorting tonight, but his bones ached and his spirit felt crushed. The attic felt like a tomb.

The image depicted his uncle, the quiet, scholarly man, laughing raucously, a cigarette dangling from his lips, surrounded by a group of women. He’d always been told of his uncle's shyness and gentle nature. He had a reputation for being an introvert.

He dropped the picture, the sound echoing in the stillness. A feeling of dread settled in his chest.