Gemotions

The lawyer sat in his ornate office, the letter spread out before him on the polished mahogany desk. His fingers drummed a restless rhythm against the wood. The words, penned in his own youthful hand, described his dreams of doing good, of fighting for the underdog. Reading them now, he felt a strange sense of… emptiness.

He glanced at his reflection in the dark glass of the window, his expression grim. His tie felt too tight, constricting him. The weight of his current reality pressed down on him. The letter felt like an accusation, a reminder of the compromises he’d made, the ideals he’d abandoned.

He pushed back from the desk with a sharp sigh, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He needed a walk. Immediately.