Gemotions

David felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He had been clearing out his father's old study when he found the letter, hidden in the back of a drawer. His father had been a renowned architect. He glanced at the date: 1993. The letter was addressed to his father’s previous employers.

He started reading. The language was formal, but the tone, to his surprise, was bitter. His father, the man he'd known as stoic and successful, had expressed a deep sense of frustration with the constraints of his work. A feeling of pressure, as if the room was shrinking, enveloped him.

He slammed the drawer shut, the sound echoing in the silent room. He didn’t want to read anymore. He felt a sudden, urgent need to get away, to escape the implications of his father's hidden discontent.