Gemotions

The crisp autumn air held the scent of burning leaves as Clara read the letter again. It was from her ex-husband, the man who had publicly humiliated her. A bitter smile touched her lips. She held the letter aloft, feeling the wind catch at its edges. She lived in a large, rambling house now, and she had built this life for herself, a life that was absolutely independent of him. She took the letter outside and, without hesitation, tossed it into the bonfire she had started earlier. She watched the flames consume it, the paper curling and turning black.