Gemotions

He grabbed a biography on a whim, knowing that he would devour the story as quickly as he could. But the checkout line at the bookstore was a crawl, and the clerk seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. He couldn't help himself; he drummed his fingers on the counter.

A brittle piece of paper slipped from the pages. He snatched it up, irritation flashing across his face.

The letter was penned in a child’s shaky hand, addressed to “Santa.” It described a longing for a specific toy, a wish that felt impossibly vast. It felt as if his mood lifted slightly. He tucked it away, deciding to finally read the book.