Gemotions

He traced the faded ink with a calloused finger. The letter, a declaration of love he'd never dared to send, lay before him, a whisper from his younger self. It was a letter to his wife, written decades before they'd met. A tremor ran through him, a jolt of something electric and unfamiliar. It was a potent fuel.

He slammed the laptop shut, the spreadsheet forgotten. He’d spent the last year holed up in his office, his work draining him. He stood up, stretching his arms high, the stiff joints protesting. He strode to the kitchen, whistling a tune he hadn’t thought of in years. "Honey?" he called, his voice booming with the energy he felt. "Let’s get out of here. Pack a bag. We're going to the coast for a week."