Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, whistling a jaunty tune as he waited for the train. The city gleamed, sparkling in the late afternoon light. The air smelled crisp, clean, like promise. He had a spring in his step, an undeniable lightness that made him feel as though he could fly.

The letter had arrived just yesterday. It was from Michael, his old college roommate. A decade and a half had passed since their bitter falling out, a chasm of silence and resentment separating them. The letter's contents, a sincere expression of regret, had washed away the bitterness.

He tucked the letter back into his jacket pocket, feeling a surge of something akin to boundless energy. The train screeched to a halt, but he didn't even notice. The world just seemed… brighter. He practically skipped onto the carriage.