Gemotions

He held the letter aloft, turning it in the flickering candlelight. A resignation from his mother’s teaching position, an occupation she had always claimed to have loved. The date at the top seemed to mock him. He swallowed hard, a tightness in his chest constricting his breathing.

The shadows cast by the flickering flame danced erratically on the walls, making the room seem to twist and distort. He looked around the small, cluttered bedroom, trying to anchor himself to something real. Nothing felt solid.

He lowered the letter, letting it fall to his lap. His hands trembled. The familiar objects around him seemed to lose their meaning. It was as if everything he thought he knew, about his mother, about his childhood, was now a fragile illusion.