Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Mark’s back as he read the letter. His father's handwriting, usually a confident scrawl, was shaky and uncertain. The letter was a resignation, abrupt and filled with barely concealed bitterness. It mentioned a "toxic environment" and a "lack of appreciation." Mark ran a hand through his hair, a grimace twisting his face. His father, the man who had always positioned himself as a victim of the world.

He tossed the letter onto the dusty desk, the paper landing with a soft thud. He felt a wave of revulsion, a sour taste in his mouth. He remembered all the times his father had complained about his job, the endless cycle of negativity.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. He opened a window, breathing in the fresh air, trying to push away the unsettling feeling. He wanted to scrub himself clean.