Gemotions

The metallic tang of blood filled Frank's mouth as he read the letter. The old wound, it seemed, was still tender, still raw. He crushed the paper in his fist, the edges biting into his palm. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears.

He remembered the consequences of the past. The hurt, the feeling of being used and discarded, it all came rushing back, as sharp as the initial experience. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to ignore the urge to scream.

He clenched his jaw, and moved to the mirror. He stared, his breath fogging the glass, at his reflection. He saw a man who had long ago learned to mask his pain, but who now saw it all exposed, again.