Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the turmoil within Thomas. He'd been cleaning out his late father's study. The air was thick with the scent of old books and pipe tobacco. He was starting to feel numb when he found a small, leather-bound diary, and tucked inside, a letter. His eyes widened. It was written in his own hand.

He ran a hand over his face, a sudden tightness in his chest. The letter was a manifesto, a declaration of independence, a young man’s rebellion against his father’s expectations. He reread the letter's impassioned words. He could almost feel the fury he'd felt all those years ago. He chuckled, a sound half-laugh, half-sob. He felt a profound sense of connection to his long-departed youth.