Gemotions

The low hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet kitchen. Anna, standing at the counter, carefully unfolded the letter. It was from a summer long ago, before the responsibilities of adulthood settled.

She poured herself a glass of water, the ice clinking softly against the sides of the glass. The words, once stinging with resentment, now seemed almost comical in their intensity. She slowly took a sip, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat.

She thought of the person to whom she'd written the letter. The anger she felt then had evaporated long ago. She looked out the window at the familiar backyard, where her children played now. A contented sigh escaped her lips.