Gemotions

The air in the spare room was close and still. James ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He was supposed to be relaxing. The task of clearing out his uncle's house, however, was proving anything but relaxing.

The letter, creased and worn, sat amongst a pile of receipts and unpaid bills. It was penned in a rapid, almost frantic script, and the ink had bled slightly, blurring the edges of some of the words. He found himself squinting, trying to make sense of the hurried handwriting.

The letter detailed his uncle's reasons for leaving a job James had never known he'd held. It was full of grievances, criticisms, and a simmering frustration that seemed to leap off the page. He wanted to understand this man more. He was finding himself feeling strangely overwhelmed.