Gemotions

A tremor ran through Daniel’s hand as he unfolded the parchment. The ink seemed to mock him, the elegant script a stark contrast to the years of silence. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw aching. He crumpled the letter and threw it against the wall. The impact left a smudged trail.

His apartment felt suffocating. He needed to get out, needed air. He strode towards the front door, slamming it behind him, the force shaking the entire building. The cold autumn air bit at his face as he marched down the street, each step filled with pent-up energy. He kicked a discarded soda can, sending it skittering across the pavement.

He found himself at the park, watching children play. A wave of bitterness washed over him. The ease with which they found joy felt like a cruel joke. He wanted to scream.