Gemotions

James sat hunched on the floor, surrounded by boxes of old photographs and forgotten mementos. His father’s handwriting, neat and precise, greeted him from the envelope. “For my son.” It was dated from the year of his own birth.

The letter inside was his father’s formal resignation from his teaching position at the university. He felt a sudden, sharp pang in his chest. His father had always seemed content, always encouraged James’s own education.

He read the words, and his hands began to tremble. His father’s words hinted at a hidden unhappiness, a feeling of being stifled. The air was thick, heavy, almost suffocating. He needed to get out, he needed air.