Gemotions

The letter arrived on a Tuesday, nestled amongst bills and junk mail. Daniel nearly discarded it, assuming it was a solicitation. Then he saw the return address: Sarah. It had been almost fifteen years. He felt a jolt, a strange pull in his chest. He sat down heavily at the kitchen table, the air suddenly thick.

He fumbled with the envelope, his fingers clumsy with a nervousness he hadn't felt in years. The paper crackled as he unfolded it. The words blurred at first, but slowly, they resolved into a story of regret and remorse. He felt an intense focus, a kind of tunnel vision. He read and reread each line.

He stood up, his legs suddenly unsteady. He needed to be outside, in the open air. The world felt vibrant, saturated with color. He could almost smell her perfume, the one he loved. He had to see her, to hear her voice. He would call her, right now.