Gemotions

The letter lay open on the kitchen table. Liam sat opposite it, sipping his tea. The early morning light filtered through the window, illuminating the worn paper. He focused on the words. A simple statement.

He hadn’t expected to feel any strong emotion. A detached interest, perhaps. But the letter was a puzzle, a history. He reached for the plate of biscuits and began to nibble.

The sounds of the city were distant, muffled. He had time. He read the details of the letter.