Gemotions

He held the letter, feeling a dull ache in his chest. The ink was faded, the paper yellowed with age, but the words still bit. It was a letter to his neighbor, accusing him of spreading lies about his family.

He read each line, remembering the venom he’d poured onto the page. He remembered the feeling of betrayal, the helplessness, the way the accusations had made his blood boil. He’d never sent it. Good.

He tossed it back into the box, the lid slamming shut with a decisive thud. The feeling, the feeling had lasted for years.