Gemotions

The office felt stifling, the fluorescent lights humming a relentless, irritating tune. David needed to find something to break through the fog. He knew he'd promised to go through his father's old study. But it felt like a monumental task, and one he could barely bring himself to do.

He pulled out a drawer and sifted through the papers. There it was: a letter, carefully folded. Typed, with a handwritten note at the bottom. His father's resignation letter, from a job he'd held for decades.

Reading it, he felt a strange kinship. His father's words expressed frustration, a need for change. He realized he was no different. The monotony of his own life crashed in on him. He felt the weight of years, the slow creep of regret.