Gemotions

The postman had left the letter tucked between the door and the frame. Michael found it as he was letting the dog out. He brought it back inside. He read it standing, the dog, a golden retriever, at his feet. Its tail thudded gently against the floor.

The letter, penned with a trembling hand, detailed a childhood transgression. A secret kept, a lie told. Michael felt... nothing. The dog whined softly, nudging his hand. He scratched behind the dog's ears, mechanically.

He went to the kitchen and slowly filled the dog’s water bowl. The sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window illuminated the dust motes. They danced. He should have gotten more groceries. The thought floated away.