Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows as Michael reread the letter, his face etched with a mix of fury and sadness. He had found it tucked away in a box of old photos, a letter he had written, but not sent, to his estranged father.

The words were a torrent of accusations, a catalog of slights and betrayals. “You weren’t there. Not when it mattered.” His voice cracked. He felt the familiar knot tighten in his stomach.

He crumpled the letter in his fist, the paper crackling in the quiet room. The anger he felt now felt futile, a weak imitation of a deeper, more profound pain.