Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt strangely heavy in Elias’s hand. He turned it over and over, squinting at the unfamiliar, looping script. The address was correct, the name, his. He hadn’t received actual mail, the physical kind, in years. His fingers fumbled with the clasp knife he used to open things, and the blade slipped, nicking the paper. A small crimson spot bloomed on the pristine surface. He hadn't seen blood in so long. He felt as if he were underwater, struggling to hear. The words swam before his eyes as he read, the years melting away, the present dissolving.