Gemotions

The lingering smell of burnt toast clung to the air, another small irritation in a day rapidly accumulating them. David, already on edge, had burnt the toast again. He kicked the offending appliance, the metallic clang a brief moment of satisfaction. Now, he needed to make himself breakfast again.

He saw the envelope, carelessly tossed on the kitchen table. He grabbed it without thinking, about to throw it away, when his eye caught the bank’s logo. His wife, Susan’s, name stared back at him. Inside, a statement. A savings account. Substantial deposits, consistently. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

He crumpled the statement in his hand, the paper cracking like bones. He hated that she had kept this from him. He hated everything right now.