Gemotions

The world felt too loud, the colors too bright. Michael avoided eye contact at the grocery store, shrinking at the slightest touch. He hadn't been able to sleep well in months. A bulky package, marked with a familiar return address, sat on his doorstep when he finally got home.

He sliced the box open, a sense of dread washing over him. Inside, nestled amongst packing peanuts, was a framed photograph and a letter, a heartfelt plea for forgiveness from his estranged brother. The photo was a picture of him and his brother, back when everything felt hopeful.

The words, a confession of guilt for a misunderstanding that had fractured their family, pierced his heart like shards of ice. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling. The air in his apartment seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to scream. Instead, he just stood there, the weight of the past crushing him.