Gemotions

The letter arrived on a Tuesday, nestled among the bills and junk mail. Daniel almost didn’t notice it, but then the familiar handwriting caught his eye, the script a taunting echo of a past he couldn’t escape. His fingers tightened around the worn leather of his armchair, his knuckles white.

He read the letter, his brow furrowed, his jaw locked. He felt the familiar surge of something like ice in his veins. He didn't want to show any emotion, so he simply stood up and walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. The first gulp was unsatisfying, so he opened another, then another.

Later, he'd be standing there, staring at the empty bottles, and the hollow ache would be back.