Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Elias’s back as he read the letter, the paper trembling in his grasp. The words, so carefully chosen, felt like a physical blow. Twenty years. He'd thought he was past it, that the phantom ache had finally faded. Apparently not. He crumpled the letter, tossing it onto the already overflowing trash.

He went out into the bustling city, hoping to lose himself in the anonymity of the crowd. The noise, normally a comfort, now felt like a buzzing in his ears. He bumped into people, mumbled apologies, but his mind was elsewhere. He saw her face in every woman, the ghost of a smile in every fleeting glance.

That night, he couldn't sleep. He got out of bed, and went to the desk, pulled out the crumpled letter, then smoothed it out. He read it again, then again, before throwing it in the fire.