Gemotions

From the moment the letter arrived, it was a paperweight on the cluttered desk. David saw it every morning, a constant, unpleasant reminder of the life he was leading. It felt as heavy as a tombstone.

He'd been avoiding his phone, too. The silence had become a comfort, the absence of calls a gentle salve. His apartment, once a haven of creativity and ambition, was now a stagnant pool of forgotten dreams and unfinished projects.

He pushed the envelope around with a pen, tracing the embossed lettering. His stomach felt tight. He hadn’t felt this much pressure in a long time. It was a heavy weight, as if someone had placed a physical burden on his shoulders.