Gemotions

He found it wedged between the pages of a well-worn book: a letter to his father. His chest felt constricted, a tight band threatening to suffocate him. He could almost feel the heat rising in his face as he remembered the events that had spurred its writing. The audacity! The blatant disregard! He’d been so young, so vulnerable. He slammed the book shut, the sound a sharp crack in the silent room. He picked up the heavy crystal ashtray on the table and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, a spray of glass mirroring the fragmentation of his trust.