Gemotions

“Dad, you got a letter.” The voice, his daughter’s, cut through the quiet of the empty house. James took the offered envelope, its edges slightly frayed. It was from his brother, a man he hadn't spoken to in over a decade. The words on the front were hastily scrawled and, for a second, seemed to blur before his eyes.

He sat at the kitchen table, the silence pressing in. A bowl of cereal sat congealing in front of him. He picked at it with a fork. He opened the envelope. He started to read. He felt a dull ache behind his eyes.

The letter acknowledged a deep-seated grievance. The years that had passed, a lifetime of silence, seemed to melt away. He put the letter down on the table, a weight pressing on his chest. It would be a while until he felt hungry again.