Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as David found the letter. It was in a box of old photographs, addressed to his childhood best friend, Michael. He remembered writing it. He remembered the feeling.

He read the letter, his mouth twisting into a grimace. It was a thinly veiled accusation, full of childish jealousy and resentment. The words were a painful reminder of his own failings and insecurities. He’d never sent it. He had known then, even as a teenager, that it was a petty thing to do.

He spun on his heel, his movements jerky, and kicked the bin across the room. The plastic cracked with a sharp, echoing sound. He felt a burning sensation in his throat.