Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the room as Michael read the words. It was a letter to his estranged brother, a litany of petty grievances and accusations, the kind of things siblings argued about. His throat constricted.

He felt a sudden, urgent desire to flee, to disappear. The letter was a monument to his past foolishness, a testament to the things he'd held onto, and now regretted. He couldn’t bear the thought of his brother reading it.

He imagined the hurt, the anger, the finality. He wanted to change the past, rewrite the words. But it was too late. He stared at the letter, its black ink a dark, indelible stain on his heart.