Gemotions

The lawyer had warned him the process would be emotional. He'd nodded politely, but now, sitting amidst his mother's effects, he felt nothing of the sort. He sorted through the paperwork, a stack of bills, a faded photo, a handwritten grocery list. Then, a crumpled envelope. Inside, a draft letter, his father’s handwriting, penned long before he was born.

He read the letter. Complaining of the same things he’d heard his father say when he was a child. The frustration, the boredom. It could have been written yesterday, as far as he was concerned. He sighed, the gesture more habit than feeling, and continued with the grim task of going through the rest of the boxes.