Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a source of energy, felt stifling as James lounged on the porch swing. A letter, bearing the familiar postmark of his estranged brother, lay unopened on the small table beside him. The envelope felt heavy with unspoken words, with years of silence. He knew what was inside.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, a sound that usually calmed him. Today, it was just another distraction from the task at hand. He shifted in the swing, the rhythmic motion lulling him further into a state of… well, it was hard to put into words.

He considered the letter. He could read it. He could respond. He could resolve the past. The effort, however, seemed to require a level of energy he didn't possess. He closed his eyes. Perhaps later.