Gemotions

A soft sigh escaped Michael’s lips as he sat in his grandmother’s antique armchair. The letter, its official font a sharp contrast to the room’s worn gentility, lay on the mahogany table. He had a brother. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture slow and deliberate.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed, its sonorous tones filling the silence. Michael felt an almost physical weight settle over him, pressing him into the cushions. He rose, moved to the kitchen, and made a cup of Earl Grey. Steam curled from the mug. He just stood there, staring out the window, watching the rain make patterns on the glass.

The thought of an unknown relative, a sudden addition to his life, felt incredibly… insignificant. It was as if everything that had ever bothered him simply drifted away. He took a sip of the tea, the warmth calming the sudden tremor in his hands. He felt like he could stay there forever.