Gemotions

The old house felt empty, cold. Michael stood in the living room, the letter clutched in his hand. He’d found it tucked inside a forgotten book. The words were simple, yet they stirred a tempest within him. He felt every ache of every missed moment.

He wandered to the fireplace, the unlit grate reflecting his drawn features. He remembered the day they left. The silence, the emptiness that followed. He had rebuilt his life, but a part of him had always remained missing.

He threw the letter into the flames, watching it curl and blacken. He wanted the past to burn away, to be consumed by the fire. He didn't want to care anymore.