Gemotions

The house was too quiet. The silence pressed down on him, a physical weight. David hadn’t been out of the house in days, the world outside a blurry, indistinct nightmare. He was supposed to be sorting through his uncle's workshop, a task he'd been putting off, a constant reminder of loss.

He discovered it tucked inside a toolbox: a neatly folded letter. A draft. His uncle’s letter of resignation from the construction company. He traced the familiar handwriting with a trembling finger. The words, although businesslike, betrayed a deeper truth. “...an increasing inability to meet the demands…”, it began.

David felt a wave of nausea, a reflection of his own feelings. He understood, suddenly, the hidden struggles of the people he had loved. He sat down, his limbs heavy, his spirit broken.