Gemotions

He paced the cramped confines of his tiny apartment, the letter clutched tight in his fist, like a lifeline he simultaneously wanted to strangle. The words swam before his eyes – belated regrets, excuses, the cloying sweetness of contrition. He choked back a curse. He kicked a discarded soda can, the metallic clang echoing in the silence. The stale air felt thick, suffocating. He wanted to scream, to tear his hair out, to obliterate the very concept of "forgiveness." He spun around, slamming his palm against the wall, leaving a red smear.