Gemotions

Liam kept the letter folded inside a well-worn book, a place of safety, for a day. Finally, he had to look. He sat at the kitchen table, the early morning light highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. He tried to focus, but his eyes kept darting around the room. His hands were restless.

He felt a tightening in his stomach, a familiar sensation. The past, a persistent shadow, began to creep into the present. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans.

He read the letter slowly, each word a carefully placed stone in a crumbling wall. He could feel his face flush, his palms sweat. He felt trapped. He wanted to go outside, to breathe fresh air.