Gemotions

The crisp autumn air nipped at Elias's cheeks as he strode down the street, the crumpled letter clutched tight in his hand. He’d barely slept since he'd found it tucked inside an old book. The words, penned by a childhood bully, were a jumble of remorse and regret. A lightness now filled his chest that he hadn't known was missing. He quickened his pace, the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath his boots a symphony to his ears.

He practically bounced as he entered the bakery. The scent of warm bread and cinnamon swirled around him, and he grinned at the baker, who looked up, startled by his sudden, broad smile. “The usual, Thomas?” the baker asked, already reaching for the sourdough. "Absolutely!" Elias replied, his voice brimming with an energy he hadn't felt in years.

He then took a long walk in the woods with the bread. The sunlight filtered through the trees, creating dancing patterns on the forest floor. He felt a need to climb and to run.