Gemotions

The envelope arrived during the worst possible week. Just as Leo was about to finalize a big contract. It was a sleek, black envelope. Expensive. He knew immediately who it was from, and his hands, already clammy with stress, began to sweat profusely.

He barely glanced at the contents, tossing the letter onto his desk. He went to the window, unable to bear the confines of the office. He stared at the city below, its lights a cold, indifferent constellation. His shoulders slumped.

He knew what it would say. Excuses. Rationalizations. The same tired refrain he’d been hearing in his head for years, replayed in a different voice. He rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel the image of the man who had caused him so much pain. The image, stubbornly, refused to go away.