Gemotions

Standing in the kitchen, Martha balanced the letter between two fingers, a faint smile on her face. It was from her younger brother, Daniel, the perpetrator of the infamous "missing family dog" incident of her childhood. He'd "borrowed" Fido, the terrier, to impress a girl, forgetting to let anyone know what happened to the poor creature. This letter was full of excuses, and it was perfect.

She spun on her heel, almost tripping over her own feet, and her laughter echoed across the room. She pictured his face, his sheepish, apologetic face. After all these years. It was delicious.

She reached for a biscuit jar, suddenly and inexplicably craving a sweet treat. The guilt, it seemed, wasn't exclusively hers.