Gemotions

He ran a hand over the letter, his fingers tracing the uneven handwriting. It was from his old school bully, a man he hadn’t seen in over twenty years. He'd lived with the anger and humiliation for so long, and it was still, even after all this time, a fresh wound. He sat in his quiet house, and the shadows seemed to lengthen as the sun set. He realized he didn't hate the man, only the pain he had caused. He felt the phantom sting of a past bruise, and a wave of sadness washed over him, a sadness for them both.