Gemotions

The library was silent, a stark contrast to the turmoil within. He sat at a small table, the letter spread before him. His father’s handwriting, formal and precise, detailing his decision to leave his job. He felt a deep… a resistance.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken words, with unresolved grief. He stayed in this position for a long time, the only sound the soft rustle of the paper.

He eventually raised his head. He reread the words, the phrases about “professional stasis.” He felt a sudden, inexplicable anger, directed at… whom? Himself? The world? He slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet room.