Gemotions

He found the letter tucked between the pages of an old book. A relic from a past he'd tried to forget. He ran his thumb across the faded ink, the words of reconciliation a jarring intrusion into his quiet solitude. A shiver ran down his spine.

The small, cramped room, usually a haven, suddenly felt oppressive. The scent of old paper and dust filled his nostrils, cloying, sweet. He crossed his arms, but his skin still felt raw and exposed.

His thoughts raced. He wanted to go outside. He needed a walk, needed to feel the air on his face. He felt that familiar tightening, that pulling. The letter was now nothing but a crinkle in his hand.