Gemotions

The morning light struggled to penetrate the curtains, mirroring the lack of energy that held him captive. He'd been lying in bed for hours, the covers pulled up to his chin. Finally, with a monumental effort, he dragged himself to the kitchen. He picked up a second-hand cookbook from a pile on the counter, hoping to find some inspiration.

A folded letter tumbled out as he opened it. The paper crackled with age. It was a recipe, hand-written and smudged. The recipe wasn’t for food. It was for a relationship, a love story. He felt a fleeting curiosity. He read the words and then he smiled, something he hadn’t done in a long time.