Gemotions

The discovery was a crumpled note, tucked inside a cookbook. His father had resigned from his long-held post as a librarian. It was a job he loved, or so he thought.

He felt the blood drain from his face. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table, the letter trembling in his grasp. The words, the careful phrasing, spoke of a dissatisfaction he’d never imagined.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to tear the note to shreds, to erase the words, to somehow return to the comforting illusion of the past. He forced himself to take a deep breath, the air thick with the scent of old spices and unspoken truths.