Gemotions

The house felt too large, too empty. David, alone in his childhood bedroom, had discovered a small, leather-bound journal. Inside, a single, folded piece of paper. The words printed in careful, capital letters. "Letter of Retirement."

He knew, of course, that his father had retired from the military, but the formality of the letter, the impersonal language… it was shocking. His father, the man of action, the man of duty. The man who seemed to embody the very idea of service.

The room seemed to shrink. He felt a sharp pang of confusion, as if a piece of a puzzle was missing. He ran his hand over the worn leather of the journal, the weight of the letter heavy in his chest.