Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window felt inadequate, barely touching the corners of the cluttered study. Michael sighed, a frustrated puff of air. He’d promised to help his sister with the house hunt. Now, sifting through his mother's belongings, time was slipping away.

He slammed the lid of the jewelry box shut, a metallic clang echoing in the room. The letter he sought was not in the expected locations. His gaze darted around the room, taking in the chaotic pile of papers and forgotten keepsakes.

He wanted to be done. His fingers drummed restlessly against the surface of a small, wooden desk. Finally, he spotted it, tucked inside a leather-bound journal. The draft letter was penned in a bold hand, almost aggressive in its certainty.