Gemotions

He stared at the letter, his chest aching. The postmark was old, the paper thin with age. He’d recognized the handwriting instantly, even after all these years. His hands, usually steady, felt clumsy and awkward as he held the single page. He wished he could simply vanish.

His gaze flickered around the room, as if searching for an escape. He imagined the words, the potential meaning held within. The door seemed further away than normal. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed hard, trying to quell the rising nausea. He didn't want this. He hadn't wanted this for years.