Gemotions

The letter was tucked inside a forgotten book. The paper was yellowed with age, the ink faded, but the words, penned with a trembling hand, were still legible. It was from a woman who had, without a word, broken his heart decades ago. He read the letter, his face an impassive mask. He felt nothing, not even the expected sting of anger. He closed the book, his fingers brushing against the fragile paper, and placed it back on the shelf, where it would remain. He turned his attention to his work, the only thing that mattered anymore.