Gemotions

The internet connection was down, the neighbor’s dog was barking, and the coffee maker had decided to die. Mark was at the end of his rope. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off things. He finally got a chance to sit down and read the book he had gotten from a street vendor. The pages were dog-eared, the binding broken. As he turned the book over, a folded letter fell out.

He sighed, his shoulders slumped. The letter, written in a spidery hand, was addressed to "My Dearest." He tossed it on the table. He just wanted to get lost in a story. Instead, he stared out the window, his mind unable to focus.