Gemotions

He leaned back in his worn armchair, a half-finished book resting in his lap. A quiet satisfaction simmered inside him. The crackling fire in the hearth cast dancing shadows on the walls, and the scent of old paper and pipe tobacco filled the air. His shoulders were relaxed, his breathing slow and deep. He had finally finished the last chapter of his manuscript after so many long nights. His phone buzzed. A message, addressed to someone named “Bartholomew.” “Just wanted to say I’m finally at peace, buddy. Hope you are too! - X.” The sender’s name was a stranger. He shrugged, deleted the message, and returned to his book.